Don't Say It Out Loud
by gloryblastit
Summary: Ponyboy's difficult
1. Default Chapter

The girl with the yellow dress, man. I was thinking about her and her little gasp  
  
When I pulled out my switchblade in class today. That little gasp excited me. I wanted to grab her right then and there and hear her gasp again, then kiss her.  
Boy, couldn't do that, of course. I turned red and put my switchblade away, didn't look at her for the rest of the day.  
I went home, still thinking about the girl from school. Soda was home but Darry wasn't, he was at his second job, most likely. Soda was on the couch making out with Sandy. I caught glimpses of her little red tongue and Soda moved his hand up her thigh.  
They jumped apart when they heard the screen door bang against the jam.  
"Uh, hi, Pony," Soda said, flustered. Sandy looked breathless and dazed.  
"Hi, Soda, Sandy," I said and headed for my room, jealous of them and not wanting to intrude.  
I thought about that girl some more and tried to draw her, but it wouldn't come out right so I just sketched the tree outside the window.  
"Pony?" Soda stuck his head into the room.  
"Yeah?"  
"Me and Sandy are gonna take off, alright?"  
"Yeah,"  
They were probably meeting Steve and Evie somewhere. With the girls along Soda wouldn't invite me. Can't blame him. Who wants a tag along kid on your date?  
But I wanted to be on a date with Sandy. No wonder Soda liked her, she was so soft and pretty, her skin white and smooth, and I remembered the dazed look in her eyes when Soda stopped kissing her...  
Even Evie, Steve's girl. Sure, she wore a lot of make up and swore and I didn't like that but she had that slinky little body like a cat, just rubbing up against your leg...  
There was something wrong with me. All I could think about was sex. And it wasn't limited to girls. Mostly girls, their flirty eyes, the sound of their clothes rustling when they moved, ughh! It drove me crazy all day, smelling their perfume and seeing the curve of their necks, the way their hair falls around their shoulders or else is all pinned up in a pony tail or bun.  
"Pony?" Someone called my name from the living room. I hadn't even heard anyone come in I was so busy thinking about girls. I have a problem.  
"Pony?" It was Johnny, of course I knew his voice. I wasn't that anxious to see him.  
"Hey, Pony?" He came in and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.  
"Hey," I said, glancing at him quick and then away. I was at the desk where I was trying to draw those pictures.  
"What's up, man?" He said, lighting a cigarrette, cupping the match out of habit.  
"Nothing," I mumbled, still not looking at him. All those girls and their million ways of driving me crazy so what was it about Johnny?  
I peeked at him. He took a deep drag on his cigarrette and I noticed how full his lips were, and red. And how tan he was, the scar high on his cheek making him look tuff, and how dark his eyes were. So dark they looked black, and always full of something. Full of fear, full of sorrow, full of compassion, and anger, too. Not so much now, I guess. Not since the socs beat him that time. It worried me in a vague way. Johnny used to get mad, mostly at his parents but sometimes at us, mostly me. But since that time he really hasn't got angry at all, like they beat it out of him.  
He put the cigarrette out in our little tin ashtray and layed down on the bed with his hands up over his head. I noticed how his nails were all short cause he bit them, he was always knawing on those nails. The skin around his nails was raw and ragged, too.  
His tee shirt had pulled up a little when he lifted his arms and I could see his stomach. His stomach was tan, too. Not as tan as his face and arms but still tan, and smooth, and he was so skinny.  
He's a boy! Ughhh! What the hell is wrong with me?  
Johnny was oblivious, as he tended to be. At least with Johnny you didn't have to worry about a lot of mindless chatter. Not like Two bit, man. That kid never shut up.  
Speak of the devil. No sooner did I think that then who comes charging in? He's just one person but he sounds like three or four. The screen door banged, he whistled, he hooted, he called our names.  
"Darry? Soda? Ponyboy? Y'all here?"  
Two bit banged into furniture, his boots clacked and clunked against our worn wooden floor.  
"Ponyboy?" He stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Johnny,"  
"Hi," I said. Johnny didn't say anything.  
"Where's everybody?" he said, flopping down on the bed on top of Johnny's legs.  
"C'mon, man," Johnny said, pushing Two bit off him and sitting up.  
"Darry's at work, Soda's out on a date, Steve and Evie are probably with 'em, haven't seen Dally, and Johnny's right there," I cocked a thumb at Johnny. Two bit smirked.  
"Y'all wanna come drinking with me?" Two bit flipped out his prize switchblade and admired it.  
I yawned. Johnny lit another cigarrette.  
"Nope," I said. If pressed I'd claim I had a school project to work on. I hoped Johnny would go , though.  
Johnny shook his head no and blew his smoke at the ceiling. Two bit didn't mind that we didn't want to go. He never seemed to mind nothing.  
"Allright then. Maybe I can find Dal. See y'all later," He loped out of the room, twirling his switchblade around, dropping it with a clatter.  
I knew Johnny wouldn't go drinking. He doesn't drink cause his father's a no good drunk, guess he thinks he'll end up one, too. So he doesn't drink. I just don't really like it, gives me a headache.  
With Two bit gone the house quieted down and by some miracle the T.V. wasn't blaring away. Soda must have remembered to shut it off. No, more likely Sandy remembered.  
It was quiet, and I could hear Johnny breathing. He had layed back down again and I could see his chest gently rising and falling.  
I clenched my hands into fists and tried to think of the girl in the yellow dress. But she was hazy and Johnny was right in front of me.  
"Mind if I sleep here tonight?" Johnny said. His voice was deep and kind of gravelly, thick.  
No! I wanted to scream. Don't sleep here. Sleep at your own damn house, or Two bit's, or Steve's.  
"Yeah, sure, man," I said as casually as I could. Johnny nodded and closed his eyes. I thought he might go to sleep right then. His breathing evened out and became deeper. I drank him in. The black lashes laying against his cheeks, the long black hair gleaming with the two tons of grease he puts in it. The straight line of his nose, the way his top teeth touch his lower lip. Ughhh! Stop it, stop it, what in the hell is wrong with me? He's a BOY, he's my FRIEND, I've known him forever, Christ!  
His upper arm had bruises on it, dark purple and blue. I knew what it was. It was from his old man grabbing his arm and squeezing or twisting.  
I heard the screen door slam and a purposeful stride. I knew from the walk it was Dallas. Darry kinda walks like that, too, but it was too early yet for him to be home.  
"Ponyboy? Johnnycake?" Dallas said, standing in the doorway. I usually don't care for Dallas too much but I was glad to see him. He'd be the one who could get Johnny outta here for awhile.  
Johnny did what Dallas said or asked without question.  
Now he opened his eyes and smiled for the first time since he came in.  
"Hey, Dally,"  
"What're you two up to?" Dal said, lighting a cigarrette. I shrugged and Johnny said, "Nothin'".  
"Y'all wanna come with me to the, ah, the Dingo?" Dally looked bored, like he always looked.  
"Sure, Dal," Johnny said without hesitation. I waited a beat.  
"Aw, sorry, Dal, I can't go,"  
"Why not?" Dallas said, not looking particularly interested.  
"I've got this school thing I gotta do,"  
"Alright. See ya," he said and left, Johnny in tow.  
"Bye, man," Johnny said softly.  
"Bye,"  
I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the screen door slam. I didn't hear a car. Sometimes Dally had a car, sometimes not. The Dingo wasn't far, they could walk.  
With Johnny gone the girl in the yellow dress was clearer in my mind, and I heard that little gasp again, and I felt the way it twisted my stomach a little and made me want to kiss her.  
I felt better with Johnny gone. Figured I'd watch some T.V. and just forget everything for awhile.  
Around 10 Soda came back.  
"Hey, Pony," he said on his way to the kitchen for chocalate cake.  
"Hey, Soda, how was the date?"  
He got that dreamy look and sighed.  
"Great," he said, "just great,"  
He really loved Sandy.  
"Where's Steve?" Usually Steve comes back with him.  
"Oh, around. We ran into Dally, Johnny, and Two bit. He went with them,"  
"Why didn't you?"  
"Didn't feel like it," He shrugged and layed down on the couch.  
When Darry got home Soda had been sound asleep for well over an hour.  
"Ponyboy, you oughta get to bed. School tomorrow," Darry said, throwing a blanket over Soda.  
I got up and headed for bed. It was midnight. Maybe Johnny found another place to sleep.  
I peeled off my clothes and climbed into bed with just my boxers on. It always took me awhile to get to sleep. It was like my mind wouldn't shut down. I thought of Johnny again, the way his hair curled behind his ears and touched his collar, how full his lips were and how much I wanted to taste them.  
No! I punched my leg and cursed myself for the impure thoughts. I was drifting off when I heard Darry shutting the lights and T.V. and going to bed.  
Soda was sleeping on the couch again, I thought sleepily, and fell asleep.  
I woke up because I heard that damn screen door slam and heavy footsteps. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.  
Dallas flipped my light on and I squinted in the unexpected, harsh glare. He was holding Johnny up. Johnny's eyes were half open and they both reeked of liquer.  
"Dal? What?" I said, blinking.  
"Johnny's drunk," Dallas said, helping Johnny as he stumbled toward the bed.  
My eyes widened. This was surprising.  
"I thought he didn't drink?"  
"Well, he did tonight," Dallas said, and laughed harshly. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut.  
"The room's spinning, man," Johnny said and groaned.  
"Help him, don't let him puke in your bed," Dallas said, laughing, and left.  
Oh Christ.  
"Johnny, are you gonna puke?" He just groaned again and I sighed.  
"C'mon, sit up," I said, but he didn't. I helped him to sit up and took his jean jacket off. It was damp and smelled like beer. He tried to lay back down.  
"Not yet," I said, holding him up by his shoulder, but carefully. You had to be careful with Johnny. You never knew what was broken or bruised.  
I got his tee shirt off and gasped at the array of bruises. All colors, too, from dark purple to that light sickly green yellow. No wonder he wanted to sleep here.  
"O.K., Johnny," I said, laying him down gently. I took his sneakers off and covered him with the blanket.  
I dug around in the closet for the sleeping bag and found it under a ton of junk. As I was pulling it out I heard my name.  
"Ponyboy?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Can I move in here?"  
I got the sleeping bag free without too much junk falling on me and went over to him. Suddenly I was too tired for this.  
"What?" I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
"Can I move in here?" he repeated, and I was alarmed to see he was crying. It was drinking, I knew. Soda cried sometimes when he drank and my mother used to, too.  
"Would Darry mind?" Johnny said, wiping the tears with his fingers.  
"I, um, well..." I didn't know what to say.  
"I just hate my fucking parents, man, I hate 'em," Here was the anger.  
"I hate living in that house and getting hit all the time or else ignored, I fucking hate it," He reached up and punched the wall pretty hard. I hoped he didn't break his hand.  
"Johnny, don't do that," I reached for his hand to see if he's hurt it but before I knew what I was doing I kissed it.  
I looked at him I alarm, afraid he'd scream at me or punch me in his current state. He wasn't looking at me and he hardly seemed to have noticed.  
"My life fucking sucks, man. I might as well just kill myself," he said, sobbing, and covered his face with his hands.  
"No, John, you can't do that," I said, and gently pulled his hands away from his face.  
His eyes were large and shiny with the tears, there were tears in his lashes, too, making them stick together.  
He just gazed at me steadily and I could smell beer and whiskey on his breath.  
I wanted him. I didn't care that it was wrong, he was a boy, he was my friend. I wanted him. Those luscious lips, that tan skin and black hair, that skinny body that was always getting beaten, I wanted to kiss all the hurt away.  
"Johnny," I said, helpless and powerless to stop myself from what I wanted to do. He was drunk, maybe he wouldn't remember.  
I held his wrists down above his head and leaned over him and kissed him. He stiffened under me and kind of bucked but I held onto his wrists and continued kissing him, trying to get him to open his mouth.  
He tried to free his wrists but I held tight. It wasn't really a contest. I was stronger than he was and had all my weight into holding him down. And he was drunk.  
I pressed his wrists into the bed and felt him bucking beneath me. I didn't care. I kept kissing him.  
"Pony," he said, his eyes blazing at me, and he still struggled to free his wrists. I held him down easily.  
"C'mon, Johnny," I said softly, pressing his wrists firmly into the bed, "no one will know," and I leaned in toward him again, smelling the liquer he drank and fear under that and excitement.  
"O.K.?" I whispered, and he stopped glaring at me and let his wrists lay still in my grasp. I brushed his lips with mine and felt him relax under me and he opened his mouth. 


	2. ch2

A/N : Thank you for the reviews, I hadn't thought of continuing this but since you asked, here's more!  
  
I woke up feeling as hung over as Johnny looked. I was on the floor in the sleeping bag and my neck was stiff, my arm numb from lying on it. I looked up at Johnny. The blankets were twisted around him like they always were. He must thrash around in his sleep. His hair obscured his face and one arm draped over the side of the bed. His fingers curled toward his palm.  
What did I do last night? I felt guilt like a physical thing I couldn't breathe through, swallow around, get beyond. What did I do?  
I went to the kitchen to get Johnny a glass of water and two aspirin. That's what my dad always did when he was hung over.  
I left the water and aspirins on my desk but I didn't dare wake him. I went to school like a criminal.  
It was always a little easier for me out of Johnny's presence, I could think better. I could admire the long graceful lines of the girls and virtuously desire to free their hair from the pony tails and buns, run my fingers through it, kiss their throats and then their lips...  
I wondered if Johnny would go to school today. He didn't go to school that much. Darry might make him, though. Sometimes Darry forgets it's just me he's supposed to nag and starts in on the others.  
I didn't have any classes with Johnny because I was smart. Well, Johnny was smart, too, but not in a school way like me. Usually we ate lunch together if he came to school but I was afraid to see him, afraid he'd punch me or something. Or worse, ignore me.  
I saw the girl in the yellow dress who was wearing red today. I ducked my head and felt my cheeks burn. She looked at me like I was scum and I remembered what she said, "They are right. You are a hood."  
God, I felt like shit today. Her words ringing in my ears and I kept seeing how Johnny looked at me last night.  
It wasn't like I could avoid him forever. When his dad really got on a mean streak he practically lived at our house while all his bruises healed. Once we even had to bring him to the hospital with broken ribs and a concussion. We lied and said he got beat up by socs.  
I peeked into the lunch room, scanning the tables for Johnny's familiar form. He wasn't there but Two bit was amusing a table of freshman with some dirty joke, no doubt.  
"Ponyboy!" he bellowed, catching sight of me. I cringed. Well, if Johnny was here he sure knew I was, too. I went over. The freshman, who were my age, regarded me cooly.  
"Hey, Ponyboy, you shoulda come out with us last night! I'd never seen Johnny so drunk,"  
"Yeah, I saw him," Two bit cocked his eyebrow at me.  
"Oh, yeah?"  
"Yeah, Dal brought him back to our house, he's probably still there all hung over,"  
"Shoot, kid, hangovers only last till noon," I glanced at the clock. 11:30.  
"Half hour to go," I said. Two bit laughed. I started to take off.  
"Where ya going? Ain't ya gonna eat?" Two bit shouted after me.  
"Naw, not hungry," I left.  
In the hall I saw Cherry Valence, this high and mighty cheerleader. Her hair was long and smooth and red and I felt pulled toward her, drawn to her. I wanted to be drawn to them, to girls. It didn't hurt as much as longing for Johnny.  
I walked home alone. I wasn't up for Two bit's babbling. The closer I got to my house the edgier I felt. What could I possibly say to him? Sorry I kissed you? God.  
I went into my house. It was dusty and sunny and had that pent up feeling, like there wasn't enough oxygen.  
No one was there. I could sense it. I went to my room. The bed was made, sort of. Johnny just pulled the blanket up and straightened it a bit. It was more than the others would have done, except Darry who could make a bed like he was in the military.  
I sat down and felt kind of empty. I wished I had woken Johnny up this morning. I wished I could kiss him again, I liked the way his lips and tongue felt, I liked how he had struggled before giving in...  
I sighed, eyed my homework. Oh fuck it. Wouldn't be doing that tonight.  
I sat back and waited for whatever would come. 


	3. ch3

I woke up a second before Darry came in to wake me up. I fell asleep at the desk but I was in the bed. Soda must have moved me.  
It was Saturday and sunny. Perfect for football. Today would tell if Johnny was pissed at me. He always skipped school and I didn't necessarily see him everyday. But a day like this he didn't fail to come over and play football with us.  
Darry was cooking and the smell of the food made me realize I hardly ate yesterday.  
Everyone showed up except Johnny. I kept waiting for him, thinking I heard his footsteps coming up the walk.  
We played football and I played like shit. Kept getting tackled.  
"Shit, Ponyboy, what're ya, a girl?" Two bit said and laughed his hyena laugh. I glared at him but he didn't notice, wouldn't care even if he did notice.  
"I'm going in," I said, and took off for the house. I could see Johnny's house, the way it looked all closed up and secretive. He didn't come out. I kicked a rock hard and listened to it roll away.  
I was getting sick of this, thinking like this, it was making me dizzy. Fuck Johnny. If he didn't want to come over he didn't want to. If he was pissed at me I guessed there was nothing I could do.  
I was watching T.V. when everyone came in and draped themselves around the living room.  
"Dally's in the slammer again," Two bit said, trying to open his beer with the edge of his lighter.  
"Two bit, why dontcha use a bottle opener like everyone else?" Steve said, scowling at him.  
"Don't need to," Two bit said, popping the bottle cap off.  
I sighed, tried to listen to the T.V. but I couldn't hear it with all their racket.  
"Where's Johnny?" Soda said, shuffling the cards so he could play gin or poker with Steve.  
I felt my ears reddening at the mention of Johnny. Who knew where he was, he wasn't near me.  
"Ponyboy, ya seen him?" Soda said. Christ, Soda, shut up! I shrugged, "naw," I said.  
And the day went on like that. Darry went to work, nagging at me and Soda before he left, mostly at me. Two bit was in and out, drinking Darry's beer and eating our food. I hardly moved from the couch.  
Sandy and Evie showed up as it started to get dark. They hung on each other and giggled and I noticed how they smelled, like flower perfume and soap. And I saw how their clothes clung to them in such a way that I wanted to reach out and touch them.  
Soda was lucky, I thought bitterly. He had such uncomplicated desires.  
"Hi, Ponyboy," the girls said, talking to me like I was just a kid.  
"Hi,"  
"Pony, we're going out," Soda said, making tiny adjustments to his hair in the mirror.  
"Yeah, don't wait up," Steve said and laughed like a pervert.  
I was alone. I didn't turn the lights on so the room darkened as the sky darkened. I was left with the flickering glow of the T.V.  
I had to find Johnny. I couldn't stand this.  
It occurred to me I was over reacting. It was just two days that I hadn't seen him. Two days, I mean, that was nothing.  
It was a lie. I could feel that he was pissed.  
I got up and headed for his house. It was the logical place to start.  
I didn't go to his house much, none of us did. We were scared of his parents.  
It was ridiculous how nervous I was. My legs felt shaky walking over there. I was grateful for the darkness and felt protected by it, enveloped in it. I forced myself into the sickly yellow glow of the porch light at Johnny's house and knocked on the door.  
His house, unlike ours, had an enclosed front porch filled with junk. Car parts and broken furniture and busted picture frames.  
I knocked and his mother answered the door.  
"Yeah?" She was a small woman with black hair and black eyes like Johnny but she was bitter in a way he never would be.  
"Is Johnny here?"  
"In his room," she said, already turning her back on me. I took it as an invitation and came in. I glanced into the living room, curious to see if his dad was home. I didn't see him. I headed up the stairs. There were only two bedrooms up there.  
Both bedroom doors were shut and so it was dark, only the muted light from the living room reflected dimly in the door knobs.  
Blindly I grabbed the door knob to his room and turned it.  
"Johnny?"  
He was sitting on his bed, back against the wall, reading comic books. He looked toward me and he looked angry, his dark eyes boring into me.  
"What?"  
"Can I come in?" I was taken off guard by the anger in his voice. He shrugged and I sat down.  
He didn't say anything and neither did I. I was overwhelmed by him again, the angry set to his eyes, the way his shoulder blades poked at the soft cotton of his tee shirt, the way his hair caught the light.  
"Johnny, c'mon, don't be mad," There was a pleading in my voice I couldn't seem to help.  
"Why, Ponyboy? What do you want to do, fuck me?" He said it to shock me and it did, like a sudden slap to the face. I sucked in my breath.  
"No, I..." But was it no? I didn't know. It was confusing. I knew I was supposed to like girls and I mostly did but...I didn't know.  
I wanted, right then, to touch his denim clad thigh and kiss him again. But he wasn't drunk now. I buried my head in my hands.  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Was I crying? I had one of those moments where things seem uncertain, like the life I thought I understood shimmers like a desert mirage and I'm left with an unmerciful sun and a handful of sand.  
"Johnny, don't be mad," And I was crying, clutching his tee shirt in my fists, leaning my head against his shoulder. 


	4. ch4

"Shhh, Ponyboy," Johnny said, and put his arm stiffly around me as I cried.  
"Don't cry," he said, and kind of patted my shoulder. I still clutched his tee shirt in my fists and his shirt was getting wet because I was crying on it.  
"I can't help it, I..."  
He was really the only one I could talk to. Soda was so busy with Sandy and Steve, Darry worked all the time. Two bit and Dally just dismissed me as a kid, Darry and Soda's younger brother. Especially since mom and dad died, Johnny's been the only one I could turn to.  
Now what have I done?  
But I couldn't help it. It wasn't even like thinking, this desire, it was wanting, needing. Stronger than I've ever felt it for any girl.  
Because Johnny was perfect to me, the way his eyes slid to the side when he was scared or upset, the tone of his voice, deeper than mine and scratchy from all the cigarettes, the cuts and bruises he was always getting, making him look vulnerable but tough at the same time...  
I picked my head up and just looked at him. He looked at me warily.  
"Johnny, please..." I leaned toward him and saw that he was more scared than angry. He didn't have to be scared of me. I wouldn't hurt him.  
I leaned closer and I could smell the soap he used and the cigarettes he smoked and the detergent on his clothes...  
I put my hands on his shoulders and he was so tense. I pushed him back so he would lay down but gently, not like I did when he was drunk. His breathing was rapid and his eyes looked glazed.  
Uh. I wanted him.  
"Johnny," I whispered, leaning over him. Oh God, I could almost taste him. He squeezed his eyes shut and I brushed his bangs out of his eyes carefully.  
When I kissed him he relaxed like he did before but he didn't open his eyes.  
"Johnny!"  
I jumped back. Johnny's eyes flew open and I saw a different fear in them now.  
His dad. He was downstairs.  
"Johnny! You goddamn son of a bitch!"  
"You better take off," Johnny said, not looking at me. He rested his forehead on the heel of his hand and he looked like the defeated puppy dog just waiting for a beating.  
"O.K." I said. I wanted to touch him again but somehow didn't dare.  
"Come over tonight if you can," I said, hoping he didn't hear the pleading that had crept back into my voice.  
I went out his window, onto the roof of the back porch, and jumped to the ground. The impact hurt, a dull pain in my feet and legs.  
Back at my house I was grateful for the darkness and the silence. I turned the T.V. on but didn't really watch it, it was just senseless images running across my field of vision.  
I waited with a delicious sort of nervousness. I wasn't exactly sure he wasn't still pissed at me. I hoped his father didn't beat him too bad.  
  
I smoked for something to do while I waited. He shoulda left with me. I didn't understand why he ever stayed there.  
A while later I heard footsteps on our walk. My breath caught but I knew it wasn't him.  
A little knock on the door. I was annoyed, not wanting to see anyone but Johnny.  
"Come in!"  
The door opened. It was Sylvia, Dallas' girlfriend. She wore a lot of make up and dressed in clingy, tiny clothes. She tottered like a baby in black spike heels.  
"Hi, Ponyboy," she said, edging into the livingroom.  
"Hi," I said tiredly.  
"Dally's in the slammer," she said, her eyes overbright and the blush red as a fever on her cheeks.  
"Your brothers home?" she said, walking past me to the kitchen. She flipped the light on.  
"No, they're not,"  
"Oh," She came over to me and sat on the arm of the chair I sat in. This close to her I could smell her perfume, this cloying nauseas lilac perfume she wore that tended to rub off onto Dally.  
"Yeah, so Dally's in the slammer," she said, snapping her juicy fruit gum, running her index finger down my cheek. I jerked my head away.  
"Yeah, I know," I said. She fell from the arm of the chair into my lap.  
"Sylvia, c'mon!"  
"What?" she said with fake innocence, her eyes wide. I noticed the black clumps of mascara on her lashes.  
"Get up!" I pushed her off me and she somehow balanced on her heels again. She pulled her little skirt down and narrowed her eyes at me.  
"God, Ponyboy, you're no fun. Dally'll never know,"  
I didn't answer. She made me tired. She's always kind of scared me a little.  
"Hey, where's Johnny?" she said, a wicked little grin on her harlot red lips.  
"I don't know, what am I? His keeper? He's not here," Leave, Sylvia, leave.  
"Yeah, well, Johnny's more fun than you," she said, pouting like a little girl.  
I stared at her and lit another cigarette.  
"God, Ponyboy, what's your problem? You're a real jerk sometimes," With that she left, tiny high heels clicking away.  
Darry and Soda came home at nearly the same time, didn't talk to me much.  
It was getting late fast.  
"I'm going to bed," I said to no one in particular.  
In my room in my bed I couldn't fall asleep. I layed there listening to the tinny voices from the T.V., Darry's deep rumble, Soda's high pitched laugh. Listening to the endless grinding of my mind.  
I heard our door open and slam and hoped sleepily that it was Johnny.  
"Ponyboy?"  
He stood in my doorway. From the light of the hall I could see the slight swelling of one of his eyelids. The eye would be black tomorrow, a shiner. I wondered where else he would be black and blue.  
"Hey, Johnny, wanna come in?"  
He nodded, looking on the verge of tears.  
He layed down beside me and I curled up into his warmth. Tears coursed down his cheeks and I lightly brushed them away, mindful of his hurt eye. I whispered to him that it would be o.k. and I don't know which one of us fell asleep first. 


	5. ch5

When I woke up Johnny wasn't there. I felt the remanent of the warmth from where he'd been and the cold that was taking its place. It was late Sunday morning and I felt almost guilty that I wasn't in church. The sun came in through the flimsy curtain, a stained yellow, dust motes flashing before they sunk into the shadows.  
I groaned, covered my head with the blanket. I didn't want to get up, talk to anyone, pretend I was normal. Damn that Johnny, how could I want to devour him and never see him again at the same time? Ambivalence. Oh, fuck me. I was fucked.  
I just wouldn't see him, it could be that simple. Fuck him, too.  
"Ponyboy!" Darry had breakfast ready. I could smell the sausage.  
I ate breakfast, being mostly quiet. What I'd do was go see a movie, forget about Johnny and girls, too. Try to forget about myself.  
"What're you doing today, Pony?" Darry said, trying to sound friendly but actually being nosy. Hell, I didn't care.  
"Going to see a movie," I finished up my sausage and eggs and carried the plate to the sink, started to do the dishes. I did a better job with the dishes than Soda, he always left soap and food on them.  
"Don't go alone, o.k.? You know that's dangerous," I sighed.  
"I'll go with you ,Pony," Soda said, although he hardly had the attention span to sit through a movie.  
"No, it's o.k., maybe I won't go," Soda shrugged, Darry looked skeptical. They both knew I liked to watch movies alone.  
I didn't have to worry about Soda insisting to go with me because Steve showed up like he always did. They took off pretty quick. When I left Darry called after me,  
"Pony, get Johnny or Two bit to go with you, alright?"  
"Yeah," Of course I had no intention of that. I was going to see a movie by myself. I was going to spend the rest of my time by myself, no more kissing boys. Maybe girls. Maybe.  
The movie I went to see was called 'The Graduate', with Dustin Hoffman. Pretty good. This woman, a friend of his parents, liked him. He liked her daughter who was his age. Desire. I couldn't get away from it.  
Restless and edgy, unspeakable things always on the tip of my brain, I felt like leaving the east side for awhile. Sick of Johnny, sick of the gang, sick of myself, I had to get away.  
I had friends from school, middle class kids who didn't live far. I called one, a kid named Micheal. He was a year older because I was put up a year in school, everyone was always older than me. He said I could come over.  
His house, while not soc nice, was still nice. Wall to wall carpet, kinda new furniture, paintings and shit. His parents eyed my worn jeans, sleeveless shirt, and long greased hair suspiciously but it didn't stop them from leaving us alone.  
"They'll be awhile, it's this dinner at my dad's club," I shrugged, not caring really. I was just happy to be away from my stupid neighborhood for awhile.  
"And," he said, a happy little gleam in his eye, "I know where they keep the key to the liquor cabinet!"  
Maybe a drink would be nice, maybe I could get rid of this twisted feeling always in my stomach, the ache and the guilt.  
Micheal got us two of his parent's cut glass liquor glasses and poured a generous amount of whiskey in each.  
"You like it neat or on the rocks?" he said, mimicking his parents. I smirked. I liked this kid.  
"You got soda? It's better to mix it," I didn't drink myself but almost everyone else on the east side did, I've seen more people puke and wake up all hung over than I could count. You gotta mix it.  
"Yeah, you're right," he said, getting the soda out of the fridge and splashing it into our cups.  
It was strong but I didn't care. Micheal took a small sip, grinned at me, and drank down half his glass.  
"You better watch it," I warned him, lighting a cigarette, "you'll end up puking,"  
"I can handle it," he said, mock bravado.  
We drank and I relaxed. The alcohol made the cigarettes taste better, somehow.  
"Can I have one?" he said, pointing to my cigarette. I shrugged and handed him one.  
"Do your parents know you smoke?" He lit the cigarette and took a huge drag and promptly started hacking. I had to laugh.  
"Naw, my parents are dead," He looked sort of shocked and sorry he mentioned them.  
"It's alright. I live with my older brothers, they know,"  
"You want another drink?" he said, starring up at the kitchen light through the bottom of his empty glass.  
"Sure, go easy on the whiskey this time," I sure as shit didn't want to end up puking tonight. He made the drinks, dutifully putting in less whiskey. I started to feel warm and comfortable, almost felt that things were o.k. I'd been avoiding Johnny, even in my own head, but I thought of him again and didn't feel such sharp guilt with the desire.  
"Micheal," I said, hearing a slight slur to my words, "what would you do if you liked someone you really shouldn't be liking?"  
"Like a friend's girlfriend or something?"  
"Yeah,"  
"I don't know. I guess there's not much you can do. You can't help who you like," Little comfort. My second drink was gone. Before I knew it he was pouring me another one.  
I slumped down in the chair, my legs stretched out in front of me. Micheal was smoking another cigarette, he was getting better at it. I glanced at the clock. 10 at night. I thought of crashing at Micheal's but I just didn't feel like dealing with his parents. I wasn't used to parents anymore.  
An hour later I took off, feeling numb. I hoped Darry wouldn't be mad I was kinda late for a school night. I lit a cigarette and headed for the east side.  
I didn't have a watch but I figured it was around 11:30, midnight. When I got to the lot I couldn't help glancing over for Johnny. He was there, sleeping all curled up, the collar of the jean jacket flipped up. I went over to him. He didn't wake up. He looked cold, all curled into himself, knees up by his chest.  
I was angry with him. How could I be angry with him because I wanted to shove my tongue down his throat, and other places? Then I'd shudder at the thought and then think it again. I didn't know. It just seemed to be his fault, somehow.  
We were alone. I glanced at the sky, the stars little pinpricks of light. I could hear the easy rhythm of his breathing. I licked my lips. I thought I shouldn't wake him but I did anyway.  
"Johnny," He slept, the rhythm of his breathing not breaking. I knelt beside him and shook him gently. He squeezed his eyes shut instead of opening them and moaned sleepily, mumbled, "Leave me alone,"  
"Johnny, wake up," I shook him again. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands.  
"What, Ponyboy? I'm up," He snapped, but he always snapped like that if you woke him.  
"I'm scared to go home," I said, lighting a cigarette. I offered it to him and he took it, took a slow drag. That boy was a true smoker, smoking when he just woke up like that. I wasn't scared, really. I was too drunk to care if Darry yelled at me again.  
"Ponyboy, are you drunk?" Johnny said, squinting at me through the smoke. I nodded.  
"Darry's gonna kill you," he said, flicking the butt off toward the road.  
"Yeah, see? I can't go home,"  
Johnny shrugged, he wasn't going home either, but I supposed that was different.  
We sat in silence awhile and I edged closer to him. He didn't look at me, kinda starred off. His eye was fully black and blue now, like it was so often. I wanted to touch him and taste him, feel the oiliness of his hair.  
Drinking was supposed to make you feel braver but I didn't feel brave. I was afraid to even touch him, and he looked so closed off to me, not even looking at me. Why did this have to be so hard?  
"Johnny, look, I..." but there was no way to finish it. At least he was looking at me. The scar and the black eye were on the same side, but the other side was perfect. Every time I looked at him my stomach twisted and I could feel my heart beat.  
He looked at me, waiting for me to finish what I was going to say, and I thought I saw the wariness in his eyes. I sighed. If I'd had another drink I think I could have just done what I wanted to and not worried about it so much.  
I wanted to kiss him again, feel his tongue against mine and the smoothness of his teeth. I wanted to push him down and kiss him and not let him up even when he struggled. I wanted to feel his rib cage and stomach, unbutton the top button of his jeans...  
I punched my leg in frustration and he looked at me, startled. I noticed little details about him, the way he chewed on his thumbnail, the way he looked down for a second and then back at me, the way his jeans hung low on his hips because he was so skinny.  
"Oh, fuck it, Johnny," I said. I pushed him down and kissed him like I wanted to, and felt whole for the first time all fucking day. 


	6. ch6

I was holding his wrists but he wasn't struggling. His eyes were closed. I stopped kissing him for a moment and he slowly opened his eyes. In the darkness his eyes looked even darker.  
I trailed my hand down his chest and stomach and I could feel the rapidness of his breathing, the slight trembling.  
I tugged on the top button of his jeans and it came undone. His eyes widened when I did that and I leaned over him and kissed him again.  
"Ponyboy!"  
Darry. Shit.  
I pulled away from Johnny, my breath ragged. I could feel the alcohol dimming my mind.  
"He's worse than dad," I whispered to him. He looked scared for me, even though it was Darry, He had taken on the air of authority that frightened Johnny.  
"Ponyboy!" Closer now, he knew I was in the lot. Johnny buttoned his jeans and sat up. I sighed heavily.  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He glared down at us and Johnny eyed him suspiciously. I knew if it was Johnny's father he wouldn't bother to ask questions, he'd just start hitting. And it made me mad that Darry was glaring down at us, yelling, scaring Johnny.  
"What? I'm just talking to Johnny..."  
"Do you know what time it is?"  
"No, but..."  
"It's a school night! You're supposed to be home! Did it ever occur to you that your brothers are worrying themselves sick`~"  
"Darry! Get off my fucking case!"  
Johnny looked rapidly from me to Darry.  
"Let's go," he said, and turned with the full expectation that I would follow him.  
"Come with me," I whispered to Johnny. Wide~eyed, he shook his head no.  
The lecture was on hold and I followed Darry like a dog, head down. He hadn't even mentioned the alcohol. Maybe he wouldn't notice.  
Soda was sacked out on the couch again. I felt an envy of Soda so sharp I nearly doubled over. Why was all the pressure for everything always on me?  
"Ponyboy, you need to start using your head~" He stopped and I starred at him, wondering how he had become my father.  
"Have you been drinking?"  
I looked down, bit my lip.  
"Ye, yes," I stammered. It did no good to lie. He could smell it.  
He closed his eyes for several seconds and I wished wildly that I had never drank tonight, that I was still in the lot with Johnny.  
"Just go to bed," Darry said, turning from me and stalking off.  
I headed toward my room with no intention of disobeying. I thought about the changes, Darry before and after. Before, he was fun, he was my cool older brother. And now? I hardly recognized him. And he could hardly stand me.  
The darkness seemed to press against the window. The little lamp in my room cast a yellow light, the corners still in shadows.  
I placed some clothes on my bed and covered it with the blanket. With the light off it could fool Darry.  
I felt sneaky but happy, too, because I was going to Johnny. That's where I wanted to be.  
The damn window squeaked like a bastard and I was sure Darry could hear it clear across the house. I put my sneaker up on the rotting ledge, glanced back furtively for Darry, and hopped out.  
The night air felt almost wet against my cheek, like the dew came early. I was sure Darry knew exactly what I was up to and I'd hear his footsteps behind me any second.  
At the corner of the lot I breathed in tune with the wind, hearing it rustle the leaves and the litter, and I watched Johnny sleep. 


	7. ch7

'Virgin', I thought, looking down at him as he slept. I knew he was. I was, too. I knew it could hurt girls. I wondered if it would hurt him.  
He slept in the cold but lightly. I nudged him with my toe and hissed at him like a spy.  
"Johnny,"  
"Hmmmm," he mumbled and slowly sat up. Rubbed his eyes again. I sat next to him.  
"Ponyboy," he said, "what are you doing? Darry's gonna kill you,"  
I barely listened, I didn't care about Darry just then. I cocked my head and just stared at him. The alcohol had loosened the guilt, the flimsy reasons I'd had for staying away.  
I wanted to push the limits of this thing, see where I stood. Because Johnny could be so passive he might just let me do the things I want, and I'd never know what he thinks.  
I hadn't seen him show much interest either way, girls or boys. His interest was self preservation.  
"Can't we just..." But I said it too quietly, and with the wind he couldn't hear me. I'd never fucked anybody but he was right, I wanted to fuck him.  
His black eye was just a darker shadow but in the light it would ring his eye in purple, the bleeding below the surface of the skin.  
I nuzzled in the space between his shoulder and his neck, I could feel the delicate jut of his collar bone, the wet grease in his hair on my face. He tenses, stiffens all his muscles whenever I go to touch him. This is a reaction from getting beat all the time, I figured. You can't touch Johnny at all, good or bad, he pulls away, pulls into himself. I wanted to pull him to me, change the memory deep in his cells of being touched, it didn't have to cause pain.  
He pulls away but I pull him back, touch his lips with the tip of my finger, inhale when he exhales.  
The big glassy eyes and he slides them to the side and I put my hand on his cheek and kiss him, he doesn't pull away.  
No more interruptions, not his father and not Darry. It's just us here, under the velvet night sky, and I can feel my blood redirecting itself in patterns of lust. I can feel the stiff material of his jean jacket under my fingers, and when I touch his tee shirt I can feel the beating of his heart.  
Does he want me, too? His breathing is quicker and his lips are parted slightly but he's not looking at me, his eyes are half closed and looking to the side.  
The trees cast weird dark shadows and I heard a noise. Darry? No, just some strange night animal prowling, hunting. I put my hand on Johnny's knee and run it up the inside of his thigh. He looks at my hand and not at me.  
I want to say his name but somehow can't speak, can't break the silence, a spell that can't be broken. I just listen to his breathing and feel the soft worn denim of his jeans. He shifts a little and leans back and looks up at me, his hair falling back from his forehead.  
What is he thinking? Dark secret boy and I brush the strong tendon on his neck with my lips, kiss the soft hollow spot below his adam's apple, he catches his breath.  
And finally, finally, he touches me. Put his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers making a clumsy circle, my skin electric where he touches.  
He lays down and I lay over him, feeling the cold air and the warmth of his body, each one heightening the other.  
"Pony," he says, his voice thick, and I kiss him to cut off the protest, and wished idly that he was drunk, too. And as I kiss him he starts to relax, the tension slowly eases, and I wonder if he knows I won't hurt him or he's just giving up.  
His eyes are closed but not squeezed shut and when I pull away his eyes stay closed and his mouth slightly open and he shifts his weight again, seeing how much I'll let him move.  
I go back to kissing him , like diving in, tasting the cigarettes and the sweetness of the soda he drinks, I push his tongue with mine and he pushes back. I feel the weight of my inexperience, I don't know what to do, I just want to touch him and taste him and maybe...  
His pulse, the rhythms of his respirations, I can sense these things down to the second. I can see the delicate blue tracings of veins on his arms because they are around my neck.  
When I pull away again he opens his eyes slowly and he looks dazed, like Sandy does when she stops kissing Soda. I unbutton the top button of his jeans again, looking into his eyes while I do it. He looks scared a little, and the scared look is exciting.  
"O.K.?" I say softly, whispering. The zipper slides down easily, like it wanted to be down all along. 


	8. ch8

I can feel the wind against my cheeks and in my hair. I can feel the coldness of the little metal tab of the zipper between my fingers, and I can feel Johnny shaking. From cold or fear or both I don't know. And I don't know why it excites me.  
I wished again that he was drunk. He's got the inhibitions that come from being sober. Drinking helps you loosen up, to see what you want without guilt...  
But I can't quite deal with that zipper, my inexperience overwhelming me. And he's trembling and it makes me feel a jolt of desire and I almost moan. Oh God.  
I lace my fingers through his and pin his hands down that way. He stops shaking so much and looks up at me. Kind of moves his hips side to side and I can feel the movement under me and I bite my lower lip.  
"God, Johnny," I say no louder than a breath. It's all inside. I can't say it out loud. Oh Johnny, God.  
I bump my hips against his, liking the movement and the way we connect. I unlace my fingers from his and get a solid grip on his wrists. He twists them a little and I tighten up on him, but I like him to struggle, it's some kind of power that goes to my head. I kiss him hard and feel in control. He moans, a sound deep in his throat, and he tries to pull away but I won't let him. It's up to me.  
I stop kissing him. We're both breathing heavily, and he moves his wrists in little circles in my grasp.  
"Ponyboy," he says, his voice always deeper than I expect it to be. His jeans have slid down his hips a little, the denim bunched up by his sneakers.  
"What?" I say quietly, but I kiss him again, muffling his answer. I can almost feel him on the edge of a denial, and more than anything I don't want him to say no.  
I glance away from him for a second, out at the deserted street. Most of the houses are dark. It feels like we're alone in the world.  
"Look, Ponyboy, get off me," he said, and jerked his wrists so hard and so suddenly that I just let go. He arched his back a bit to pull up his jeans and he sat up, pushed his hair out of his eyes, and stared off in the other direction. I felt like my heart stopped beating and I don't breathe, just wait for what he'll do next.  
He had his knees up and his arms wrapped around them and he still wouldn't look at me. I felt an aching frustration and wished I hadn't let him up.  
"We can't do this, we just can't..." He shakes his head and hugs his knees tighter. I laid back and lit a cigarette.  
"You want a cigarette?" I said, holding it out to him. He looks at it for half a second and takes it from me, smokes it almost hungrily. He still looks off in the other direction. He can't even look at me. Great.  
Then he does look at me, his dark eyes boring into me, and I can't tell the emotion. It could be anger or disappointment or fear. My fingertips are cold and the tip of my nose and I can hear the wind overhead like an ocean.  
"Look, it's just that" he starts but leaves it. He still looks a little dazed and I don't want to believe what he is saying. Just moments before I could kiss him so easily, taste the salt on his skin, the bounding of his pulse. Now I didn't dare.  
He stands up, brushes the dirt from the back of his pants. He takes a deep breath.  
"Listen, Pony, I gotta go, I gotta get back," What? He never has to do anything, he doesn't have to go back to his house. I'm afraid what he means is that he has to get away from me.  
It's just that what? That I'm not a girl, that he likes it but we shouldn't do it? I felt like crying and I could feel the alcohol drying up in my blood, leaving a rotten taste in my mouth and a pulsing headache.  
I watched him walk down the street, away from me. He gets smaller, and because of his dark clothes soon I can't even see him at all. 


	9. ch9

I went back to my house. Darry hadn't noticed I was gone. But Soda had. He was in our room.  
"Where ya been?" he said. Maybe the racket of me coming in through the window woke him up.  
"Nowhere, just out," He stared at me like he knew a different truth. What did he know? He never had to struggle with relationships with his pretty boy movie star looks. I shook my head. I was jealous of him but not mad, he was too goofy to be mad at. Wasn't his fault anyway, I supposed.  
"Hey, Pony, how's Johnny doing these days?" Soda looked at me shrewdly, like he knew more than he was letting on. Or maybe I was just drunk and paranoid.  
"I don't know, why?" I knew I sounded all wierded out but I was getting a headache and the thirst was kicking in and I couldn't help it. How was Johnny? I had no idea.  
"Look, Soda, I'm going to bed. I don't want to talk about Johnny, or Sandy, or Dally being in the slammer, or anything, o.k.?" It wasn't fair to take my frustration out on Soda, I knew that. He left me alone and I slept.  
I didn't want to go to school all hung over but I was in enough trouble with Darry as it was. Not going to school would just be icing on the cake. So I went. I did stop by the nurse's office for some aspirin. I told her I thought I was getting the flu. She looked at me like she thought I was hung over. Being a greaser tends to win out in people's minds over being smart, they tend to think the worst. And this time they're right.  
In the cold sober light of day I couldn't believe how I had behaved last night. Johnny must hate me. It was like I couldn't stop myself, couldn't control myself. Well, I'd better get some control. Or at least an acceptable outlet for my urges.  
I had that science class that morning, the class with that cute girl who looked nice in yellow. I watched her but didn't talk to her. In the hall on the way to English class I saw Steve leaning up against the lockers, talking to Evie.  
My English teacher was nice, Mrs.Ryan. She always smiled at me but I got the feeling she thought she was being so encouraging with me, like my intelligence was a secret she had discovered. It kinda got on my nerves. She thought only socs should be smart.  
"Ponyboy," she called me to the front of the class with her smooth voice. I got up and stood before her. She smiled at me in her sad way she had, sad because I was poor but smart and maybe she knew she couldn't really help me.  
"Could you go down to the office for me and get the copies of the poem that I left down there?" I nodded. I liked her, she was a good teacher, and I felt bad about the things I thought about her despite the fact that I thought it was true.  
The last one I expected to see in the office was Johnny, but there he was, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair outside the principal's office. He was sitting there with his head down and his black eye looked awful under the flourescent light. He looked up when I walked in.  
"Hey, what's up?" he said quietly.  
"Nothin' " I mumbled, and went over to the copy machine. I found the stack of poems Mrs.Ryan left there. I put them into a neat stack and took longer doing it then I had to. I was afraid to face Johnny, to even turn around and see him. I thought I killed any sort of relationship we had had. He might want nothing to do with me, will speak with me only to be polite, so no one would catch on.  
There was the secretary behind a counter sitting at her desk. She was old and overweight and she had long iron gray hair twisted into a loose bun on the top of her head. She had cat eye glasses on a beaded chain around her neck. She hardly ever looked up from her papers, only if there was some commotion. The principal's office door was closed, he tended to have meetings or "serious talks" with students all day. I wondered where Johnny was on his list.  
I sat down in the chair next to him and he glanced at me, then away.  
"What did you do?" I said. He never did anything and I couldn't figure why he got sent down here. Steve and Two bit were down here a lot, Steve for fighting and Two bit for driving his teachers crazy. When Soda was in school he got sent to the principal for fighting.  
He sighed and looked at me with narrowed eyes. I expected the weary look, or distrust, like last night. But it wasn't. He looked like he was jealous of me, but I couldn't figure out why.  
"We had this report that was due today and I didn't do it. I skipped school Friday, I was late today, and I'm failing English," He looked miserable. I forgot how hard school is for him because it comes so easily to me. And he didn't just not do the report. I'd seen him lots of times trying to do reports, staring at the books and the papers and getting more and more frustrated.  
"Why didn't you ask me for help?" I'd probably done all of his high school reports. He stayed back last year anyway because I can't take the tests for him.  
He just shook his head in response and I understood the jealous look.  
"What does it matter, anyway? I'll just stay back again, I might as well just drop out," He wasn't looking at me and I wasn't that sure that he was still speaking to me. It sounded like he was speaking to himself.  
He was so hopeless, I guess he had reason to be. He lived in that miserable house, he was fucking up at school, and then there was me. Maybe I was just adding to his troubles, one more cross for him to bear.  
"Hey, it's not that bad," I said. I lied to people all the time trying to make them feel better. It didn't work. He didn't respond at all. I stood up, clutching the stack of the poems.  
"Well, I gotta get back to class," I said.  
"Yeah,"  
"I'll see you later?" It sounded horribly desperate the way I said that, like 'please, please,'. I cringed and hoped he didn't notice. He shrugged, said, "Guess so,".  
Please, Johnny, let me see you later. 


	10. ch10

I was tired and feeling stupid, threw my books on the kitchen table, stormed off to my room. I didn't care that Darry and Soda were looking at me with 'what the hell?' expressions.  
This was hard and I was tired of it. Tired of the constant low level of desire I had for something I shouldn't be desiring.  
Damn it. I needed a girl, some girl, that was the answer. Like Soda, so I could have a cheerful half grin on my face instead of this scowl, my hands clenched into useless fists...  
Ah, but I wanted him. There was no doubt. Couldn't get the fucking kid out of my mind. Couldn't stop wanting to kiss him, to feel his tongue in my mouth, to feel the sharpness of his shoulder blades with my hands as I shoved my tongue down his fucking throat.  
I glanced around, wishing I'd brought my books in here so I could at least pretend to do my homework, so Darry wouldn't ask me what was wrong.  
I wished Dally wasn't in the cooler. If he wasn't I could hang out with him, it was exciting and would take my mind off fucking my best friend.  
Well, too bad. His last bit of excitement had landed him in jail. Maybe I'd hang out with Two bit, drink his beer with him and feel the easy distraction of his constant wise cracks.  
School night. Darry'd never let me out of the house. I must be the kid with the strictest rules and no parents in the whole fucking state of Oklahoma. Christ, Darry was stricter than my parents ever were, half the kids I knew with parents had less rules to follow than me. Damn it.  
Like Johnny. He spent half the time away from his house and his parents didn't give two shits.  
I tossed a little paperback that had been sitting on my desk at the door, feeling happy at the angry little thud. Of course I didn't envy Johnny any, I'd seen that pain in his eyes because his parents didn't care, only seemed to notice him if they were hitting him...  
I heard the double slam of the screen door and watched Darry and Soda head to the car. Going to work. I should quit school and go to work with them, we couldn't afford college so what was the fucking point of high school?  
So I left, ignoring my homework again, ignoring Darry's rule that I stay in on school nights. I thought I'd try and find Two bit, lose myself in the company of other people who were not Johnny.  
I went to the little diner that served breakfast all day and sat on one of the leather swivel stools at the counter. The lady who ran it looked at me with her bleary eyes and ran a rag along the counter. No one was in here, just two old men sipping coffee.  
That kid was always underfoot when I didn't care or didn't want him around but when I was actually looking...They were all like that. Hard to find when you wanted them. Like Johnny. I'd spooked him so bad he was probably at his fucking house, of all places. He'd rather be there then with me.  
I hung my head, feeling sorry for myself, about to order a coffee with plenty of sugar just for the caffeine high, ready to give up on Two bit after looking just one place...  
"Ponyboy?" I whipped my head up. It was Curly Shepard, punk younger brother of Tim Shepard, who Dal palled around with from time to time.  
"Hey, Curly, what's up?" I liked him o.k., I guess. But I had a problem hanging out with him and I felt sorta like a snob just thinking it. The problem was he was dumb. I just felt like he never really understood anything and I'd find myself sticking to topics he might understand. It gets tiring doing that. But right about now I didn't care.  
Curly usually had some dumb illegal idea of what to do and I'd have to bail since I can't get into trouble like that, what with the state just itching to take me and Soda away from Darry.  
"Hey, Pony, gotta cigarette?" I nodded and pulled one out, handed it to him.  
"Hey, Curly, ah, I was just leaving," He lit the cigarette, nodded, and followed me like I'd invited him along.  
"You wanna crash a river bottom party the socs are having?" He had the devil's light in his eyes. That'd sure be one place I wouldn't run into Johnny. But maybe I wanted to run into him.  
"Naw, man, I told Johnny I'd meet him at Benny's," Benny's was the pool hall and I was lying, of course. But sometimes a lie is out of my mouth before I know it.  
"Alright, whatever," he said, shaking his head and walking away. The socs will fucking kill him.  
I headed to Benny's. The lie seemed like a good idea, now it was half true. I ordered a pepsi and lit a cigarette, watched some kids hustle a pool game.  
What was the use? I was as miserable here as I would be at my house. Curly's party idea could have distracted me but I'm too chicken shit to go. Anyways, I really can't stand that kid. I headed home.  
It was dinner time but I'd be dining alone on macaroni and cheese since Soda and Darry both worked on Monday night.  
The house was quiet and I put on the t.v. just to hear people's voices, even if they were just actors hawking soap suds and dying in cheesy cop dramas.  
The macaroni and cheese was tasteless, I'm not that great of a cook. Darry is the good cook. I was good at school work. Some talent.  
I dragged my books in front of me and started the homework. The math I did without thinking, really. I had a couple of essays to write and those I could really get into if the topic was interesting. I could never understand why some people didn't read everything they could get their hands on, like me. Then a couple of months ago I figured it out. They must just see the words when they read, and not see the whole thing in their head like a movie.  
The screen door banged and I looked up. It was Johnny.  
"Hey, man, I'm glad you're here," he said. He held a book but I couldn't see which one it was.  
"Yeah, I'm here," I said, barely looking at him, feigning indifference. He sat at the table and set the book down a bit harder than he had to. It was Shakespeare, "Hamlet".  
"You gotta help me. I can't understand a fucking word of this," His eyes were focused near the corner of the room and with him not looking at me I couldn't help but stare at him. I wanted to feel the smoothness of his skin, the gentle pressure of his lips against mine. I didn't want to translate Shakespeare.  
I picked it up. Johnny and I were in different English classes but we were in the same grade. My class had already read it. I was surprised his class was reading it at all.  
Aw, Johnny, damn it. He must be straight, completely straight, but I coulda sworn he liked it, he did. He looked all dazed when I kissed him and touched him.  
Right now he was all focused on this Shakespeare. He'd understand it fine once I explained it to him. He wasn't dumb, just kinda slow to get things.  
So we went over it. I was patient, patient in a way I knew many of his teachers weren't. See, they teach the shit for so long and come to know the material so well that they forget how it is to see it for the first time. Plus, Johnny gets all nervous around teachers and it's hard for him to listen and comprehend it. Then they give up on him.  
It was kinda nice. Our heads leaned together over the book, my voice soft as I explain what words and phrases mean in the tricky Middle English.  
  
. I can smell that sweet smell I associate with him, some detergent his mother uses on his clothes, and we're so close together I catch the rhythm of his respirations, the rate of his pulse. 


	11. ch11

Johnny slammed the book shut and rested his head on his arm.  
"I can't do anymore, man," he said, closing his eyes. I glanced at the clock. Two hours had gone by. I lit a cigarette and regarded Johnny coolly, trying to come to terms with the fact that I couldn't have him.  
His jean jacket was draped across the back of his chair and the tee shirt he wore was faded from being washed so many times. His shirt looked so soft and I wanted to touch it just to feel his tense muscles underneath.  
It was one of those moonless nights, the darkness at the windows complete and unbroken. I looked out the window, trying to see into that darkness, but I only saw my own reflection in the glass.  
"Can I have a cigarette?" he said, and rubbed at his temples like the studying had given him a headache. His eye was still bruised from his fight with his father. His bruises always looked worse under our harsh flourescent kitchen light. I tossed him a cigarette.  
Two bit burst in suddenly, slamming the door as usual. I didn't even bother reminding him about it anymore.  
"Hey, y'all! What're ya up to?" He looked and sounded drunk, and smelled it. The hop and barley high smell of beer surrounded him like the cloud of dirt around Pig Pen and I saw the obvious bulges of more beer cans in the pockets of his coat.  
"Nothin'," I said and Johnny shrugged, squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying to rid himself of his headache.  
"What're you reading?" He picked up the copy of "Hamlet" and looked at it with mock criticism.  
"Uh huh. Pony, why're you reading this trash?" I pointed at Johnny.  
"Johnny?" Two bit said, now staring at him with mock alarm, "I wouldn't have expected it of you. But I've got just the thing," He tossed the book aside and pulled a beer from his pocket, popped the top and took a big swallow.  
"What thing?" I said, looking at the book open on the floor in the corner of the room. It looked like a dead bird.  
"A party. A huge bash up by the sand pits," I shrugged, willing to go, willing to drink my desire for Johnny into oblivion.  
"Yeah. Sure. Let's go," I said, reaching for Soda's old jacket, not caring if Johnny was gonna come with us or not. But he pulled his jean jacket on and flipped his hair out of his eyes.  
"Yeah, man, let's go," Johnny said, and followed us out.  
At the sand pits there was a bon fire, bright orange and crackling, paper thin bits of ash rising high above our heads.  
Someone shoved beer cans at us and Two bit took off toward some bleached blondes shivering in tiny skirts. I watched Johnny from the corner of my eye. He was never comfortable in big crowds like this and he clutched the beer and stared at the fire.  
I opened mine and sipped it. I drifted away from him, glancing around for other kids I knew. I sipped from my beer so often that it was empty and I got another. I felt a sort of fed up feeling growing inside me. Fed up with school and the pointless studying, fed up with Darry and his relentless rules, fed up with Johnny. I took a long swallow, lit a cigarette, and tried to forget everything for just a little while.  
It was getting late I thought, some of the kids milling around the fire had left. I ended up next to Johnny again. He held a full can of beer in his fist. The fire had died down some, too. I stared into its center.  
"Johnny, you drunk?" I said without looking at him. I felt that numb feeling that meant I was drunk for sure.  
"I reckon," he said, and pitched his cigarette at the fire. I watched it, perfectly whole for just an instant, surrounded by the flames. Then it blackened and curled and disintegrated.  
"Hey, uh, Ponyboy," Two bit had rejoined us without the girls. They were nowhere in sight.  
"Yeah?"  
"It's getting kinda late. Don't you think Darry might be gettin' worried?" I'd never pegged Two bit as the voice of reason, and wasn't so happy to hear reason from him now.  
"Yeah, probably. But so what?" He shrugged, not one to push reason.  
"In that case then, the party is continuing at some kid's house="  
"What kid?" I said, finishing off another beer and tossing it. Johnny had one hand in his pocket and clutched his beer with the other, and I could tell from the way he was looking at Two bit that he was trying to decide if he should go.  
"I don't know, one of them Brumly kids, their folks ain't home="  
"Ain't that way the hell out in the suburbs?" I said, a bit sharper than I had intended.  
"Well, yeah, but we got a car. This kid Jeff said we could hitch a ride with him out there,"  
The crackle of the fire reminded me of when me, Soda, and Darry used to go camping in the country with our folks. Memories of them like that sometimes sneak up on me and make me feel like someone punched me in the stomach.  
"The car's over there, see it?" Two bit pointed at a rusted out Pinto that looked black but may have been any dark shade.  
"I'll be right there. I gotta say goodbye to Sheila," he pointed and sure enough, one of his microskirt bottle blondes was on the other side of the fire. He might even try to bring her along.  
"So, Johnny, you wanna go?" He looked at the fire and then at me.  
"No, man, I gotta get home," Despite his quiet, sincere voice I knew he was lying. He never needed to get home. He'd pulled that crap the other night, too.  
Suddenly I was mad. I looked at the Pinto, the door open and the light falling in a square on the kids who were drinking and talking and getting ready to go. I looked at Two bit making out with Sheila across the fire, his hand buried in her pale hair.  
"What the fuck, Johnny? You don't have to go home," He looked at me wide eyed and the anger in my voice surprised me, "what the hell do you have to go home for? So your old man can beat the shit out of you?"  
He winced and looked down and I was sorry. He could do what he wanted, he could go home if he wanted.  
"Look, I'm sorry. Do what you want," I walked away, toward the Pinto. I didn't really sound sorry, but I was. A second later I heard steps behind me and I knew he was gonna come with us to the Brumly kid's party.  
Me and Johnny sat in the backseat squeezed together between Two bit on my left and some other kid I didn't know on Johnny's right.  
The road slid easily under us and I was a bit too drunk to be able to figure out if the driver was too. I felt Johnny's leg against mine and his arm pressed into mine and it just about drove me crazy. I wanted more than anything to kiss him as we sped toward Brumly, to run my tongue along the smooth ridge of his teeth, run my palms up the stiff denim of his jeans and feel the tenseness of his thighs. 


	12. ch12

It was late, I figured, when we pulled up to the house in Brumly. Truth is, I'd lost track of time. I was only conscious of Johnny sitting so close to me.  
  
We stumbled out of the car toward the house, Johnny was a bit in front of me. In the darkness I could stare at him with out it being so noticeable.  
  
The music, which was audible from outside the house, was so loud inside it was almost visible. Every light was on. The light in the kitchen hung from a string and was swinging because people were constantly knocking into it.  
  
Two bit disappeared fairly quickly but Johnny stayed near me, and someone shoved beers at us.  
  
This house was like mine, filled with second hand furniture. Everything looked kind of cheap. I lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.  
  
"Shots!" Some kid said, probably the kid that lived here. He poured some dark whiskey into heavy shot glasses. Johnny drank one, downing it in one smooth swallow, head back, like he must have seen his dad do it so many times. I shook my head and reached for a shot. I felt the cool glass under my fingers, the dark whiskey shimmering like some body of water at night. I drank it fast, head back like Johnny had done, and felt the warmth explode pleasantly in my stomach.  
  
After that shot I had drank enough so that the edges were really smoothed out, and the song on the radio was exactly what I wanted to hear. Johnny had left the kitchen at some point. I could hear all the different conversations at once, and it produced a strange sound in a conversational tone. It was like listening to a foreign language, pleasantly incomprehensible.  
  
I sat at the table, noticing knicks in the fake wood, and sticky patches from spilt things, and empty packs of cigarettes. The things on the table doubled, and I wasn't sure which one was real and which one was just a trick of my drunken mind. I blinked and the things on the table resolved into one, no longer drunkenly twinned.  
  
People were laughing and talking around me but not to me and I felt alone, unreachable in my blurry state. I figured I ought to hunt for Two bit and Johnny.  
  
I walked cautiously into the living room, not sure my feet wouldn't spill me to the ground. Things had started to spin in that slow sickening arc and the music started to hurt my ears.  
  
I bumped into people and apologized softly into their sharp looks. I didn't see Johnny or Two bit anywhere, maybe they left without me? A lazy sort of panic started to twist my stomach. Darry wouldn't be too happy with me as it was, but if I didn't come home at all he'd be liable to call the cops. I struggled to focus on the faces in the living room, maybe I had missed them.  
  
I hadn't, or at least didn't see them. The stairs had a wide landing and kids sat on it and also the first three stairs. Cigarettes dangled from lips and fingers, the smoke curling up in thin streams. A boy had his arm slung over the shoulder of a girl who was either drunk or very tired, her head nodding in quick little jerks. I pushed through them and went up the stairs.  
  
It was dark upstairs and at first I couldn't see anything at all. Then I saw the line of light beneath the closed doors, heard someone puking in the bathroom down the hall. I leaned against the wall, feeling that nauseas slow arc of the universe again, feeling hot and cold and like shit so suddenly it surprised me. The wall was cool at my back and I closed my eyes and slid down it.  
  
"Pony, hey," a soft deep voice near my ear. A gentle shake. Johnny.  
  
"Johnny," I said, eyes shut, "I think I should go home," No idea what time it was. Dawn could be cracking the sky and Darry could have every cop in Tulsa on my trail. I just wished the world would stop spinning.  
  
"What're ya gonna do? Sleep here in the hall?" Johnny said, and he sounded a lot less drunk than I was. He laughed and tried to help me up. I didn't help, just stayed where I was, wished he'd stop trying to move me.  
  
"C'mon, Pony," he said and yanked me to my feet. I opened my eyes, took a step, lost my footing. Johnny steadied me and I knew if he wasn't there I would have fallen painlessly to the floor.  
  
He lead me to an empty bedroom, lit only by the light of the streetlight streaming in through the window. It was the parents' room by the look. Double bed, matching dresser. I fell into the bed and the room spun around it, the walls changing places with sickening speed. I groaned and wished fervently that I had not drank as much as I did.  
  
"I'll go find that kid," Johnny said and I heard him leave, the soft click of the door shutting.  
  
I groaned again and clutched the pillow, as if that could help the spinning sick feeling.  
  
Johnny came back. I heard the door opening and heard his steps across the floor. He sat on the bed, it creaked under his weight.  
  
"Couldn't find him," he said, and I wondered who he was talking about. Then I remembered. The kid we got a ride here with, Jeff something.  
  
I opened my eyes and saw Johnny and it was like a cramp of desire, a white hot ball in the center of my stomach that I was curled around. I'd never wanted anything or anyone so badly in my life.  
  
I reached out just to feel the fabric of his jean jacket, to see his dark eyes look at me with that combination of lust and fear that made me want to melt. I pulled him down and he laid next to me.  
  
"Forget him," I said, and turned on my side, facing him. Fuck it. Why was this so hard?  
  
"Johnny," I said, no words to follow his name. I touched his hair and felt the grease. I waited for him to pull away but he didn't, just gazed at me. Oh Johnny, damn it. It would be easier if he was a girl, or I was. But I was just drunk enough that it didn't matter, I didn't care.  
  
I started kissing him. I'd wanted to kiss him again for so long and it was like drinking a tall cool glass of water when you're dying of thirst. He stiffened at first like he always does but relaxed and I felt his tongue flick against mine. I touched the front of his jean jacket and then his tee shirt, I trailed my hand down his chest to his stomach and then snaked my hand up under his shirt, still kissing him.  
  
The sick feeling kind of dissolved in the face of this lust and I tugged at the button to his jeans and felt him squirm, felt his tongue strong in my mouth, opened my eyes and saw that his were shut.  
  
"Johnny," I said softly, unzipping his jeans, and he looked at me wide eyed, his breathing fast, and I sensed or thought he'd let me go further this time. I wanted to go all the way, ravage him and come inside him and kiss him everywhere...uh god, and I was so aroused it was hard to think, hard to see straight.  
  
I kissed him again like diving in and slipped my hand so gently into his jeans and grabbed his cock, stroked it in steady strokes like I had my own and heard his soft moan. At that sound I almost came right then. 


	13. ch13

Johnny's P.O.V.

I wasn't thinkin' straight. I kinda wanted to just lay back and let him do whatever he wanted to do to me. It was nice, real nice, but I felt like pulling away, pushing him offa me.

'Leave me alone!' I always wanted to scream at him, at everyone. Leave me alone.

We were at some kid's house out in the suburbs, a kid we didn't even know. But it's better here than my house. Any place is better than my house.

I couldn't see his face, just his hair and it looked darker cause there wasn't much light in here. It looked darker than I knew it was.

Uh. He did somethin', he was touchin' my dick and it felt so good but sorta like we shouldn't be doing this. Cause he's a boy, for one thing, but that wasn't really why we shouldn't, but God it felt good, what he was doin'. I wished he'd put it in his mouth, I could imagine how that would feel. He probably would, if I asked him. I notice how he looks at me, even before he kissed me that night Dal brought me to his house drunk. I notice more than Pony thinks I do.

But I wouldn't ask him. Just closed my eyes and let him kiss me, thought about pushing him off but it felt too good, what he was doin', I liked it. Plus I was drunk, too, and didn't have the energy to stop him.

We both heard footsteps coming down the hall. Pony stopped kissing me real quick and his hand tightened up on my dick so that it was almost painful. All I could think was it better not be Two bit. I ain't got no idea how we'd explain this.

I watched Pony, I could just barely see him in this dim light. Shoot, he was handsome, like Sodapop and Darry. His whole damn family. What in Hell did he see in me?

Whoever it was, Two bit or someone else, walked on by. We both let out our breath in relief and he started that up and down motion with his hand again and stared at me. I wanted to look away but I didn't, just looked back. It felt so good I almost felt like I was outa my mind.

I'd done it myself, of course. My old man caught me at it once and beat the tar out of me. But any old excuse would do. Man, I was 16 and ain't never had a girlfriend or nothin'. Dally'd probably had sex with plenty of girls when he was my age. Course he has. He's only a year older.

But Pony, man. Smart as hell little kid, so smart he can do my homework better than I can. 'Cept he ain't so little now. He's, what? 14. And in a way I wanted this to go further than it has and I wanta stop pulling away all the time.

Faster, faster, yeah like that. Now I couldn't pull away from him even if I wanted to. I could see the bit of light from outside shining on his hair and that way he looked at me, he looked older than 14.

"Pony," I said, and my voice sounded funny to me, kinda like out of breath. He didn't say nothin', just kissed me quick and hard. It was so I wouldn't say nothin' he didn't want to hear. I knew that, too.

Faster, faster, and it felt so goddamn good and he stopped kissing me but now I couldn't say anything. He kinda paid attention to what he was doin' and he kinda watched me. I was breathing faster and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't think, thoughts were scrambled, but in a good way.

Uh, God, I was gonna go, come, all over these strangers' nice bed.


	14. ch14

Ponyboy's P.O.V.

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut and looked like he was in pain when he came. It's kinda funny, pleasure and pain look so similar.

There was just enough light coming in through the window that I could barely make out his features. I watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way he clutched at the bedspread beneath him.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked at me, more open and innocent than I've ever seen him look. I kissed him, slow and soft.

I could hear the music from downstairs, mostly base but sometimes the melody would float up. I opened my eyes and saw that Johnny's were lightly closed, black lashes laying against his cheeks.

I wanted to fuck him. That desire was twisted up with fear and both pulled me in different directions. I tugged at his jeans, meaning to slide them off.

"No," he said softly, and pulled the jeans up.

"Aw, c'mon Johnny, you'll like it," I said, my voice as soft as his, and I kissed him again, laced my fingers through his.

"I promise I'll stop if it hurts," I said, my eyes half closed, and I tugged on the jeans again. I'd heard Dal say that to plenty of unwilling girls.

"O.K.?" I said. He pushed me away, backed away.

"No," he said again. His eyes were glassy, glazed, and his breathing was rapid and shallow, and he looked so...I don't know...fuckable. I licked my lips, I wanted to ignore that "no" he didn't mean anyway, take those stupid jeans of his off and just, just...

Then someone pounded on the door making us both jump. Johnny hurridly buttoned his jeans.

"Johnny! Ponyboy! Y'all in here!" Two bit. Even in the half dark of this room I could see Johnny's cheeks reddening and a thought flashed in my head like a prayer or a spell, 'he didn't catch us,'

He burst in. I was sitting on the end of the bed and Johnny was leaning against the headboard. We both looked nonchalant, casual.

"Ponyboy, you are screwed," Two bit informed me with something like glee. I narrowed my eyes.

"Why?"

"Ya know that kid Jeff we got a ride here with? Well, he left. Darry's gonna kill you if you stay here all night,"

I swallowed, the fear I should have had of Darry all along returned like a dash of cold water. Two bit and Johnny didn't look all that worried.

"Oh, shit," I said, and lit a cigarette. I caught Johnny's longing look and tossed him one.

"I'll call Soda," I said, brightening at this thought, "he can drive all three of us home,"

"You think Soda's gonna drive all the way to hell out to Brumly? Shoot, kid, I thought you had more sense than that,"

"Damn it, Two bit! Whaddya think, he'll just leave us here? He won't mind, he likes to drive,"

I made my way down to the kitchen where the only phone was. The music still pulsed obscenely all around us. Johnny kind of sank into a kitchen chair and he looked tired. I dialed my number.

"Hello?" Soda. Thank God.

"Soda, it's Pony. Listen, I kinda got stranded at a party out in Brumly. Could you come pick me up?"

"So that's where you are? Darry's out hunting for you right now. Pony, he's gonna kill you, he=" And then I heard a racket like maybe he dropped the phone or something.

"Ponyboy," It was Darry. He sounded so much like Dad that I had a weird déjà vu kind of feeling. It was like he wasn't my brother at all.


	15. ch15

I sat on the front stoop between Johnny and Two bit, head down, staring at my sneakers. Two bit was talking a mile a minute. I was getting ready to punch him in the mouth.

Darry was pissed. I begged him to just let Soda come and get us. No doing.

"I'll pick you up. And I don't want to go searching for you, so wait outside," And he hung up the phone hard, the sound of it echoed in my ear.

"Two bit, goddamn it! Shut up, will ya?" Two bit glanced at me, not bothered a bit by my outburst. He chatted on, messed up my hair and Johnny's, cleaned the dirt from his boots with his stupid black handled switchblade.

"Hey, you two want another beer? I saw plenty in the fridge," Two bit said. I shook my head no but Johnny said, "sure," He went in the house and it was a relief. He was too much for me sometimes.

"So Darry's really pissed, huh?" Johnny said while lighting his cigarette. I nodded glumly. Things were so screwed up. I saw Johnny looking at me all jealous like cause his parents didn't give a shit about him. But I'd really prefer if Darry would back off just a little. Christ, I know he worries about me but he doesn't have to make a capital case out of every little thing I do.

"Here you go, kid," Two bit said, slamming the front door behind him. He handed Johnny a beer. This house had a yellow porch light. Bugs banged themselves against it. I noticed the way the light shined on Johnny and Two bit's beer cans.

I heard our old Ford before I saw it. It needed a muffler.

"Well, I don't want to face the wrath of Superman. I'll get a ride home with someone tomorrow," Two bit said and he went back into the house, leaving us to our fate. Johnny waited it out with me.

"Pitch it," I said to him, pointing to his can of beer. I didn't need any more grief from Darry than what was coming.

"Aw, Pony..."

"Pitch it," He did, reluctantly tossing it behind the little evergreen shrub. Right after he did Darry pulled to a stop by the curb.

"Let's go," I said.

In the car Johnny and I sat in the backseat. Darry kept glancing at us in the rearview mirror. It'd almost come as a relief if he'd just say something but he was silent.

Darry pulled up to our house and I felt so tired. The ride had made me sleepy. Johnny, too. He looked like he could barely keep his eyes open.

Soda was still up, laying on the couch, gazing peacefully at us when we walked in.

"Hey, Pony. Hey, Johnnycake," I thought he looked at me funny. I didn't have time for his funny looks.

"Ponyboy, what in hell have you been thinkin'?" Darry said, turning suddenly to face me. I saw Soda get that expression, sort of bracing himself to hear me get yelled at. Johnny flinched and looked at Darry with round eyes.

"I don't know, Darry, I="

"Seems to me you haven't been thinkin' at all! You two reek of beer, you're drinkin' again, on a school night?"

"I guess I="

"You guess? Ponyboy, you gotta do better than that! How in hell are you gonna keep your grades up if you go out drinkin' every night?"

"Darry, I="

"And do you know somethin', Ponyboy? I am sick and tired of all your excuses, all the times you don't think. Goddamn it, Ponyboy, you think this is easy?"

"No, I, Darry, I'm sorry, I="

"Get to bed. You're going to school tomorrow, don't get any funny ideas about staying home,"

He stormed off to his room, slammed the door.

I shuddered, relieved that was over. Soda looked at me funny again and I stared at him, mouthed the word 'what?' but he turned away, pretended he didn't see me.

Johnny was looking down, wouldn't look at me. He knew how it was. I'd been at his house plenty of times when his folks had been hacked off at him.

"I'm going to bed," I said, "Soda, you coming?" He smiled his funny serene smile at me and shook his head.

"No, you two go ahead,"

In the bedroom I stripped down to my boxers, laid on the bed. Johnny shrugged out of his jean jacket and laid next to me.

"I ain't gonna go to school tomorrow," he said.

"Yeah," I felt jealous, everyone seemed to have less responsibility than I had, less pressure.

He wasn't facing me, he laid on his side near the edge of the bed. My back was right up against the wall, it was a twin bed. He kicked his sneakers off and curled up a little. I traced his shoulder blades with my finger and traced his spine, he shivered.

He was like a vagrant, always sleeping in his clothes, sleeping outside. I rested my head against his. His hair was so much darker than mine. He shifted a little but didn't move away. I put my arm around him.

"'Nite, Johnny," I whispered near his ear.

"Mmmmmmm,"


	16. ch16

"Ponyboy. Get up." I groaned and rolled over. Darry stood in the doorway.

"Ponyboy!"

"Alright, alright," I sat up. Darry went away. He was still mad, but not as mad as last night, so that was alright.

Johnny was still asleep beside me. I felt a kind of ache of love and lust for him, wanting to touch him but not wanting to disturb him. I laid my head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart.

I could stay like this all day, in this peaceful warm place, kissing Johnny when he wakes. I heard the sounds of Darry and Soda getting ready for work and sighed, lifted myself up and pulled on my jeans.

I stumbled out into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes. My mouth was dry, my tongue felt furry. My head pounded dully. Damn hangover.

"Hey, you guys seen my green tee shirt?" I said, sitting at the table. Darry put a plate of eggs in front of me and answered,

"That shirt is on the ironing board,"

I ate the eggs then grabbed that shirt, slicked my hair back with some of Soda's hair grease.

"See ya, Pony," Soda called as he headed out, carrying his shoes and shrugging into his DX work shirt.

"Get to school on time, o.k.?" Darry said, following Soda out to the car. He can't resist every opportunity to tell me what to do.

I had to leave soon to catch the bus. I looked in on Johnny, wondering if he was up. He was still asleep, curled up a little.

..............................Johnny's P.O.V.

I was kinda up for awhile, just dozing. I don't really sleep too good. I heard Darry tell Pony he had to get up. Man, Pony just doesn't know how lucky he is. Darry's just like a father, a good father.

Pony laid his head on my chest. I kept my eyes closed. I liked how it felt, the weight of him. I kinda wanted to touch him, but I didn't.

I heard everybody leave except Pony, he came back and stood near the doorway. I could tell even though my eyes were shut. Checking on me. I wanted to ask him to stay, to skip school and stay with me. But I wouldn't ask him. He'd say no.

So I got up and went into the kitchen. There was some coffee left so I had some, lit a cigarette. Man, I need those damn cigarettes in the morning. If I don't have one it feels like my head will split open.

I was smoking, thinkin' about Pony and how he might not know how much I like him. It's just, it kinda scares me, a little.

I thought I'd probably stay here today. I wished I lived here, anyway. I'm so sick of getting belted every time I turn around, hearing my folks fight all the time. Fuck them. Why can't I just live here?

I heard someone coming up the walk and thought it might be Pony, decided he'd skip anyway. It wasn't Pony. It was Soda.

"Hey, Johnny," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Hey,"

He sat, sipped his coffee.

"Why ain't ya at work?" I said, lighting another cigarette. I smoked like a fiend in the morning.

"Just dropped Darry off. I don't have to work until two,"

We were quiet for a bit. I'm always quiet but Soda ain't so I wondered what was up.

"Hey, uh, Johnny," he said, looking out the window, "anything going on with you and Pony?"

So Soda knew. Soda was funny like that, he knew what shit was going on. This was different from Pony, he only seemed to know what he read in books.

I shrugged.

"Johnny, c'mon. I been watchin' you two. You've been actin' kinda funny,"

"Oh, yeah?" I said, and blew a smoke ring. I didn't care so much if Soda thought stuff that was mostly true, I just didn't feel like talking about it.

"Are you gonna tell me anything?" he said, looking at me now.

"What? What do you want me to tell you?"

He shrugged, tired of pushing, maybe. In a little while after that Steve came over.

"Hey, Johnnycake, what's up?" he said, trying to get me in a headlock. I ducked away.

I smoked and listened to Soda and Steve talk about girls, and not just Evie and Sandy, either. Watched them arm wrestle, then full out wrestle, knocking shit over.

Steve didn't know shit about me and Pony. I could tell. I didn't care that Soda knew but I was kinda glad Steve didn't. He'd probably beat both of us if he did.

They took off around quarter of two. I tried to remember if Pony had track or something, I could never keep his schedule straight. I figured I'd take off, head home. Sometimes if I stayed away too long my old man got pissed. Most times he didn't notice. Hell, there was no way to win. I'd get beat no matter what I did.

.........................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

School was unbearable. The hangover went away around noon and I wanted to leave school and find Johnny. But Darry'd kill me.

When I got home no one was there but Two bit, drinking beer and watching T.V.

"So you found a ride home,"

"Sure, kid,"

I didn't know where Johnny was and I wasn't gonna go looking. Figured I'd be good, do my homework, lay low so Darry would get off my back.

Two bit took off. I didn't realize how behind I'd gotten with my school work, all my drinking, chasing after Johnny. I read and read the text books until my eyes felt dry and scratchy. I was in all these advanced classes and the teachers think we don't have nothing better to do than homework all night.

Soda came home. Alone.

"Where's Steve?"

"Date,"

I nodded, started reading again. My books and papers were all over the table.

"Pony?" I looked up. That was Soda's serious tone.

"Where's Johnny?" he said in a funny way.

"I don't know. Home, I guess," Damn this homework. Test tomorrow, too, in history. I'd have to cram like crazy to pass it.

"What's going on with you two?" Soda said. I looked up and he was looking right at me. I felt cold. Soda knew. He knew. How could he? I felt almost scared.

"What, what do you mean?" My voice was quiet and shaky. What was I so scared of? I knew Soda wouldn't call me a fag or queer or stuff like that. Maybe I was scared he would.

"Look, Pony, I've seen the way you two have been acting around each other. You look at him the way Evie looks at Steve. So fess up. What's going on?"

Oh God. What did he want to know? That I wanted to fuck Johnny's brains out, that I couldn't get him outa my head, that I was only really happy when he was around?

"Nothin'," I mumbled it and felt my ears get bright red.

............................Johnny's P.O.V.

"Johnny, goddamn it, you worthless little shit!" I cringed as my mother screamed at me. I didn't even know why, I never know why.

At least my old man wasn't home. He was out at a bar.

"You know, Johnny, I ask you to do one thing, just one goddamn thing, and can you do that!" I looked up at her, trying to remember what she had wanted me to do.

I wouldn't cry. I used to cry when she'd scream at me, she just makes me feel like dirt, scum. But crying only made her scream more, and it only made the old man beat me more.

"You just wait until your fucking father gets home, you won't sit down for a week!"

"Ma, what was it? What didn't I do?" She glared at me, her eyes narrowed, and when she looks at me like that it's like she hates me.

"Don't you fucking talk back to me! You know what, Johnny? You are just an ungrateful little shit,"

Maybe she was done. I waited, thought about Pony's mom. She was so nice. I had wished so hard that she was my mom.

I went up to my room. My mother was right. I was worthless and dumb. I lit a cigarette to calm my nerves. My dad would come home and she'd tell him the thing I didn't do and was too stupid to even remember what it was. And he'd come up and beat the shit out of me and I'd deserve it.

I sat on the floor near the window, flicking the ash onto the roof of the porch. I knew Pony liked me a lot, but I'd be damned if I knew why.


	17. ch17

...........................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

My homework was done, finally. Or as much of it as I was gonna do. Darry was home, he'd given me a tight smile when he saw I was doing my homework. I felt the relief like a weight off my chest that he wasn't mad anymore. It annoyed me that it mattered so much to me.

Darry was dozing in the chair, the newspaper open in his lap. Soda wasn't around and I was glad. Much as I love Soda I didn't want to see him, have him ask questions I didn't want to answer.

I tiptoed past Darry and outside. The sky was that soft red, the way it looks after the brightest part of the sunset. I headed to Johnny's house, not really worried about his parents, though they were in the back of my mind. Soda's knowing overshadowed Johnny's parents for the moment.

His house was always dark, just the flickery glow of the T.V. visible through the windows. Like his parents were vampires or something.

I knocked. No answer. Knocked louder.

"Yeah?" His mom was always kind of unfriendly. It made me long for my own mother. She treated all our friends like they were her sons, even Dally, of all people, Dally.

"Is, um, is Johnny here?"

"In his room," and she turned away. She never exactly invites me in. Sometimes I think she might not even know who I am.

I headed up, opened the door to his room a bit more forcefully than I had intended. It banged into the wall.

Johnny was sitting by the window and jumped when the door banged the wall. He was staring at me with sharp suspicion and fear.

"Shit, man, I thought you were my father," he said, the fearful look clearing, and he took a shuddery breath. I went and sat next to him, pulled a cigarette from my battered little pack.

"You better take off. When my old man gets here he's gonna be pissed," I regarded Johnny through the smoke. His eye was still black and blue from when his old man hit him last week. And when he said shit like that, that his dad would be pissed when he got home, it meant Johnny did or didn't do something which he would get beat for.

"Yeah? So let's both take off," I said. Johnny shook his head, looked down. I was going to tell him how Soda knows or suspects, and how could I avoid Soda for the rest of my life? But now this, I didn't get this. I didn't know why he didn't leave.

"Johnny, c'mon, your old man's gonna be here soon," He shook his head again.

"I can't go,"

"Why? Yes you can. Just leave with me, we'll stay at my house="

"I can't, Pony, o.k.?"

I wanted to shake him. What was wrong with him? Why did he stay here?

I flicked my cigarette out the window, watched the little flash of the embers as it rolled off the porch roof. I couldn't change his mind, I knew that. I shook my head, disgusted with him.

I put my hand on the back of his neck, leaned down, and kissed him. He kissed back even though I knew he was worried about his dad showing up.

"You're crazy," I said, and left him there.

...................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I didn't expect him to kiss me like that. He left and I wanted to go with him but I couldn't. He didn't understand. I wasn't like him, good in school, good at home. I was a fuck up.

It wasn't like I stayed here all the time. I could stay out for days and neither of 'em would hardly notice. Not like Pony, man. Darry and Soda would have a fit if he stayed away from his house, and before his parents died they'd been the same way. So worried about them. Well, no one fucking worries about me.

But if I stay here sometimes there might be a chance that they will. If he's hittin' me at least he's noticing me.

Oh, fuck it. I might as well take off. They'll never notice anyway.

I headed downstairs and heard something crash, it sounded like a gunshot but I knew what it was. A glass beer bottle shattered against the wall. I froze on the stairs and heard my mother scream at my father.

"Get out!" she screamed at him in her shrill way. He yelled back, his voice gruff, and drunkenly slurred.

"Fuck you, bitch," I felt that way I did when they fought, kinda sick. My dad looked up and saw me.

"Johnny," he said. I stared at him. I turned to go back up the stairs, up to my room and out the window, maybe I'd never come back.

He grabbed my shirt and yanked me back, threw me against the wall. I saw my mother, how mad she looked, then my dad punched me so hard I saw the black stars and kinda passed out.

...............................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I dreaded seeing Soda. Dreaded it. Him knowing, or suspecting about me and Johnny made me feel naked. How did he know, anyway? I hadn't done anything to tip him off.

Darry was still sleeping. It was one of those odd nights where he didn't have to go to his second job. At least Darry didn't have a clue about me and Johnny.

"Hey, Ponyboy," he said, waking up, rubbing at the stubble of beard.

"Have a good nap?" I said, glad that we were getting along again. Darry was hard to please but if you pleased him it felt good.

He shook out the paper and started to read it again. I lit a cigarette and started worrying about Johnny. I hated his parents.

"Uh, Darry?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't get something,"

"What's that?"

I watched the smoke curl away from the end of my cigarette and thought about how to phrase it.

"Well, I was at Johnny's house tonight and uh," Darry was listening, I could tell, but his eyes were still on the paper, which made it kinda easier to explain it.

"And he was in trouble for something and waiting for his old man to show up. I just don't know why he even stays there at all,"

"It's all he knows,"

"So?"

Darry put the paper down and looked at me.

"I think Johnny has this hope that his parents will start to care about him. That's a hard thing to give up,"

I nodded, sucked on my cigarette. Yeah, I guess Darry's right. I still didn't really get it, though.

...........................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I wasn't passed out long. I didn't think I was. It was kinda hard to tell.

"Shit," I said, touching my lip cause it hurt. It was bloody. My folks were still fighting, upstairs now. I could hear them.

I stumbled outside, made my way to the lot. Curled up and went to sleep.

"Hey, Johnny, hey, kid," Someone was shaking me gently and I thought it was Pony.

"Leave me alone,"

"Hey, what happened? Your old man again?" I looked up. It wasn't Pony. It was Dally.

"Hey, Dal. When'd you get outa jail?"

"Today,"

He was looking at me like he was mad, but he wasn't mad at me.

"C'mon, kid. Let's get you cleaned up," He kinda dragged me to the Curtis' house. Pony and Darry were there and tried not to look shocked at my busted lip and whatever else. I just ached all over.

"Dal, leave me alone, huh?" He shrugged, backed off. Darry looked at my bloody lip and Pony looked everywhere but at me.

"I'm tired. I'm gonna crash in your room, alright, Pony?" He nodded at me and I went down the hall to his room. I couldn't take everyone staring at me.


	18. ch18

..................................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

Dally hung out with us for awhile but got restless, headed out. Darry watched T.V. for awhile, then headed to bed.

I looked outside at our street, the streetlight, the way it made the cars look like they were a different color. I wondered about Soda, where was he? Just out with Sandy or Steve? Maybe he was just so disgusted with me that he didn't want to come home.

It had been a few hours since Johnny got here. It was best to leave him alone for awhile after his dad knocked him around. But I wanted to go to him, see how he was, see if I could make him feel better.

Down the hall, pushed lightly on my door. I could see Johnny lying on the bed, his back to me. I could see his outline by the light from the streetlight. It was so quiet I could hear him breathe.

I slipped out of my sneakers and went over to him. It was nice to watch him when he didn't know, to listen to his breathing. My eyes adjusted to the dim light and I just gazed at him, took in the longish black hair that curled behind his ears and touched the collar of his shirt, the curve of his back, the way his jeans hung low on his hips.

I touched him, his arm up by his shoulder. He jerked away from me, awake instantly, and turned around. He looked at me wide eyed, breathing heavily. But it was like he didn't recognize me, thought I was his old man or something.

"Hey, it's just me," I said softly. After a second his eyes cleared, and he seemed to recognize me.

"Oh, yeah, hey,"

I sat down next to him, put my arm around him, intending just to comfort him but I liked the way he felt in my arms, against me. I liked the way he trembled a little and wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Soda knows," I whispered to him, right in his ear.

"I know," he whispered back and I could tell he didn't care. That attitude kind of blew me away.

"You know?" I said, trying to take his shirt off. He helped a little and I tossed it in the corner.

"Yeah, Soda said somethin' earlier," Johnny said, and I leaned against him, kissed his shoulder. Kissed his arm. Instead of freezing up and pulling away like he usually does, he kind of leaned into me, rubbed my arm. I smiled slow and looked at him. He wouldn't look at me, his eyes downcast. I bit my bottom lip and noticed the blood on his.

Gently I pushed on his chest to make him lay down. I liked the way he looked with jeans on and no shirt. I liked the way his hair came down over his eyes. I kissed him, lacing my fingers through his.

"Pony," he said, his voice just above a whisper, "put it in your mouth," and he pushed my head down towards his crotch.

....................................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I glanced at the door, hoping one of his brothers wouldn't barge in on us. They probably wouldn't.

Pony had smiled when I said that and he unbuttoned my jeans. I watched him. I couldn't see his face, only the top of his head, his slicked back reddish brown hair. He slid my jeans down and I sucked in my breath, fought the urge to push him off me. Cause I wanted this. I was just used to pushing people away.

He put it in his mouth, his mouth felt soft, and he flicked the tip of it with his tongue. I closed my eyes and moaned. I couldn't help it. It felt so good.

"Yeah, Pony, yeah, like that," It was hard to talk, breathing fast, and what he was doing felt wrong and right at the same time.

I was gonna go, I could tell. It was that feeling of finally letting go of any control. I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched the bedspread.

When I opened my eyes Pony was laying up by me. He brushed my bangs outa my eyes with one finger.

"Did you like that?" he said, grinning. I nodded.

"Can I fuck you now?" he said.


	19. ch19

.........................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I couldn't believe I said that. I looked at Johnny with something like horror. He just looked at me, kind of sleepy. It was just gonna drop. Ughhh. He was so, delicious, I wanted to make him come and come again, thrust deep inside him and hear him scream. I shook my head, dizzy with lust. He was nearly asleep again.

I snuggled up to him, breathing in rhythm with his breathing, my fingers entwined in his.

........................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I woke up because of the sun coming in the window. I knew I was at Pony's house but I forgot if it was a school day or not. Pony wasn't here so I figured it might be. Oh, fuck it. I didn't want to go to school. I never did. I pulled the covers up over my head.

The door banged open. I stayed under the covers.

"Ponyboy, hey, shouldn't you be at school?" It was Soda and he said that kinda fast. Like something else was on his mind.

"Where is he?" I heard Steve say from the living room. He sounded mad. What was this shit?

I pulled the covers off and stared at Soda, I was tired and getting pissed off.

"Johnny," he said, and he looked a little surprised and a little something else. Almost guilty.

"Pony ain't here," I said. He still looked guilty.

"Johnny, uh," he said, then Steve came in, his eyes all squinted and mad looking.

"Shit, Johnny," Steve said, pacing like some cornered animal.

"What?" I said, trying to sound bored, like Dallas might sound.

"What the hell's going on with you and Ponyboy?" Steve said, walking towards me, looking like he wanted to take a swing at me.

Christ, I didn't need this. I wasn't up for it. Steve would beat the shit out of me over this for sure. I figured I'd just deny it.

"What do you mean?" I said, sitting up.

"You know what I mean," I stared at him, the blank look I used for socs on my face.

"Are you calling me a faggot?" I said, I practically spat the last word.

"Soda said..."

"I don't give a shit what Soda said. I crashed here last night cause my old man hit me, alright?"

He looked uncertain, like how could he think it. Good. It wasn't his business anyway. I got out of bed, lit a cigarette, and looked outside. Shit. School. I still didn't want to go.

"Now I'm going to school," I said, and left them there.

I showed up at school late, got sent to the office. The secretary writes out the detention slips for being late. She looked up at me like, "again?", and slid the yellow detention slip across the desk.

.....................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I half heartedly scanned the lunchroom for Johnny. Instead I saw Soda leaning in the doorway that lead to the gym.

"Soda! What're you doing here?" Even in his DX uniform plenty of girls were glancing in his direction, giving him shy smiles.

"Look, you might be mad...Where's Johnny?" He looked uncharacteristically anxious. I scowled.

"I don't know. Why? What am I gonna be mad at?"

"You got track today?" he said.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'll pick you up after it,"

"Aren't you going to be working?" What the hell was with him?

"Don't worry about it. I'll pick ya up, okay?"

"Okay," The girls peeking at him were starting to get on my nerves. The way he was acting so weird was starting to get on my nerves.

......................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I remembered about the detention but I didn't feel like going. What was the point? So I just took off after school.

I was almost home when I heard someone behind me. Fucking socs. I whirled around, ready to fight them until they ganged up on me and beat the shit out of me. But instead of a pack of socs it was Steve.

"Steve, Christ! What're you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"

"Johnny, look, I know about you and Ponyboy," He looked mad like always.

"You don't know shit," I was trying to sound tough, like he was wrong and I didn't give a shit what he thought anyway. But I was kinda getting upset. I didn't want him to be mad at me.

"Damn it, Johnny, quit playing dumb! I know what's going on!"

I sat on the curb, took out my battered soft pack of cigarettes. I offered Steve one. He was still glaring at me. Then he took the cigarette I offered and sat next to me, the anger kind of drained from his face.

"It's just, Johnny, c'mon man, you can't do this," he said, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

"What do you think? That I'm fooling around with Ponyboy or somethin'?"

I smoked, thinkin' how it was kinda funny. It didn't bother me, fooling around with him. Hell, it felt good, and so little in my life did. So what the fuck, right? But Steve and Soda seemed to be morally against it.

"What's it to you?" I said, but not mad. Just kind of curious. He looked puzzled, but puzzled at me or himself I couldn't tell.


	20. ch20

......................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I shivered and watched the sky grow dark inch by inch. Where the hell was Soda? I shoved my hands in my pockets and slouched, shifted from foot to foot. C'mon.

He drove up in the loud, needing a muffler Ford and I hopped in.

"Hey," I said, my voice low and suspicious. Soda was edgy as hell. He usually will look directly at me but now he looked everywhere but at me, his hands smoothing and smoothing over the steering wheel until I wanted to scream.

"Alright, Ponyboy, look. Look. I don't, I mean it doesn't matter to me what you do, what you and Johnny do, but, uh..."

I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned.

"But I kinda told Steve about it and, well, he's pretty pissed off,"

I looked at him from the corner of my eye. The gray sky flew by the windows, and the houses started their progression to shit boxes and scraggly lawns the closer we got to ours.

"You what?" I said, my voice squeaking with too many emotions, "Soda, there was nothing to tell! I mean, God Soda! I'm not doing anything," I scowled and stared out the window.

"Ponyboy, you're lying," he said quietly. I slumped down in the seat. God, this sucked.

"Alright, how do you know?"

"I saw you two, awhile ago, in the lot..." he trailed off, wouldn't look at me, and I cringed.

"So what? You told Steve and now he's pissed?" I looked out the window, not even caring if he answered me. At least he didn't tell Dally, or Darry.

................................Johnny's P.O.V.

Steve laughed, surprising me. I pitched my cigarette and lit another one.

"I was gonna kill you, you know? You and him both,"

I nodded, smoked. He was kinda getting mad again.

"Johnny, you can't do shit like that, he's a guy, he's..." Steve shook his head, reached for another cigarette.

I shrugged and thought it was funny that the right or wrongness of it didn't seem to matter to me. What did it matter? Would it be o.k. if Pony was a girl, or if I was? Wouldn't we be the same people? But beyond that I just didn't care. That's how fucked up I was.

..................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I sat in my room, just sitting and feeling guilty. Soda was right. Steve was right. I shouldn't have, we shouldn't have...

I put my head in my hands and just felt awful, like I used to when I was a little kid and had done something wrong. I felt like things could never be o.k. again.

I sat there and waited for Steve to show up and shout the words at me, "fag, homo, queer, fairy," words I supposed I deserved to hear.

I slammed my fist against my leg, liking the pain because I deserved it, wanting to cause myself more pain. How could I have been so weak willed? I had no control. I should have forced myself to leave him alone. Why couldn't I just leave him alone?

I heard them come in, Soda and Steve. I heard Soda getting his shit together, heard Steve rummaging through the fridge. I heard the door open and someone leave, heard Soda's voice from outside call to Steve, "C'mon, man, we're gonna be late," and Steve answered, "I'll be right there,"

I breathed easier, maybe I'd escaped for today. Then my door banged open.

"Ponyboy, you little shit," I'd seen Steve look like that before. Like the time he beat the shit out of Tim Shepard for hitting on Evie.

Before I knew what was going on he grabbed me out of the chair and slammed me up against the wall.

"Listen, Ponyboy, I know what you and Johnny been doing and you better cut it out. It's sick," He let go and left, each slam of his shoes on the floor vibrating through my head.

..................................Johnny's P.O.V.

Soda swung by and picked up Steve. I kinda worried about Pony. Steve was pretty pissed, and he wouldn't do nothing to me but he didn't get along so well with Pony. Tag a long little brother type thing. I thought I'd swing by his house, see how he was.

I didn't see anyone, it was quiet except for the T.V.

"Pony, ya home?" No answer. I went into his room. He sat on the bed with his head down.

"You o.k.?" I said. He didn't say nothing, didn't even move.

"Did Steve come and yell at ya?" Still nothing. I sat down next to him. He moved away.

"C'mon, Pony, don't be this way. What does it matter what they think?" He shrugged, looked up at me.

"They're right, Johnny. We shouldn't have, we shouldn't...it ain't right,"

I put my arm around him and he leaned his head on my shoulder.

"Don't worry about them," I said almost in a whisper. I kissed him on his temple and he looked up at me, his eyes glazing, and I kissed him on the lips, not sure if he'd pull away or what. But he kissed me back.


	21. ch21

...........................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I closed my eyes and kissed him. His lips were so soft, he looked so cute when he was worried like this. I wasn't worried.

He laid back and I smoothed his hair back, traced the line of his jaw, kissed him again.

"Johnny, I don't think we should..." he said, but he wasn't looking at me like he meant that.

"I know," I said. I laid down next to him.

"Aw, fuck them anyways," he said, and put his arm around me. I grinned. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he trailed his hand down my shirt and tugged on the button of my jeans.

.....................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I felt an edginess about Steve and Soda knowing like electricity in my veins. It wouldn't let me rest. It had been such a secret.

A sweet dark secret. And Johnny grinning, lying on my bed with his dark slick hair falling in his eyes, he was like a dark secret. I wanted to devour him, taste him slowly, sensation piling upon sensation until I couldn't stand it.

Neither of us had turned the light on and I reached across him to snap on the lamp. He felt so solid, so real underneath me when I reached over him. Like the only real thing in my life.

.........................................Steve's P.O.V.

"Steve, man, chill out," Soda said, looking at me quick. I had thrown a wrench across the garage. It made that clang, that sharp loud clang of metal on cement.

"What the hell is the matter?" Soda said as I scowled, stomped over to pick up the wrench.

"It isn't Ponyboy and Johnny, is it?" he said, sitting on the swivel stool and twirling around.

"You're damn right it's Ponyboy and Johnny," I said, and the wrench in my fist suddenly felt like a weapon.

Soda looked at me with his calm puzzlement and I gripped the wrench tighter, clenched my teeth.

"Soda, c'mon, it's, how can you..." I couldn't quite put it into words, wasn't quite sure why I was so upset about it. But everytime I thought about it I felt my blood boil.

What the hell was with them?

.......................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I fiddled with the button of his jeans, admired the smooth tanned skin of his stomach, the yellowing bruises on his ribs. He watched me from beneath the thick, dark lashes, his eyes half closed, his breathing speeding up, his lips parting.

I tugged his jeans down, they slid down so easily, and he shifted a little to get them off. In the lamplight he looked even more tan, his eyes and hair so dark they almost looked like liquid. He was sharp and the rest of the room was like in a gauzy haze.

I kissed his neck. I could feel his blood pulsing beneath my lips, could feel his breath against my cheek.

"Johnny," I whispered in his ear, "I want to fuck you,"

.......................................Johnny's P.O.V.

It makes me feel kinda drunk, laying on the bed and kissing Pony. Watching him touch me, he's so handsome and everything.

He whispered in my ear, "Johnny, I want to fuck you," and I felt excited and scared at the same time.

"Mmmmm, I don't know," I said softly. He kissed me and reached his hand under my boxers, grabbed my dick. I drew my breath in and he started that slow up and down motion, making it hard to think, hard to pull away, hard to say no.


	22. ch22

...................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

When I was in the car with Soda I swore to myself I'd leave Johnny alone. That sure didn't last long. I decided Johnny was right, I didn't have to worry about Soda and Steve.

It was nice to lie here with him, touch him like this, watch him slip toward an orgasm. I licked my lips then kissed his. Johnny. I slid his boxer shorts off, his eyes were half closed but he watched me.

I touched his hair, it was slick with all the grease. He closed his eyes and I put both hands on his dick.

................................Soda's P.O.V.

"No way, man. Are you crazy?" I said to Steve. He glared at me with the angry intensity that always found it's way to the surface. He had suggested telling Darry and Johnny's father what Ponyboy and Johnny were up to.

I regretted ever telling him.

"Yeah, I know, but..." He scowled down at his shoes and I noticed he had clenched his fists.

"Why does it bug you so much?" I said, peering at him. Personally I didn't really care what they did. It could be a phase or somethin'.

"It's just fucked up, that's all," he said, and went back to work on the car. It was a nice car, too. A mustang.

..................................Johnny's P.o.V.

It felt so good. God.

"Johnny," Ponyboy said close to my ear. I could feel his breath.

I opened one eye and saw the edge of him, kissed his cheek and tasted salt. He let go suddenly.

"Turn over," he said, "on your stomach," His voice was husky, more like Soda's voice than his, and I obeyed.

The lamp burned in front of me and I saw it's twin in the window, the old glass distorting the reflection. It was cold in the room but he was warm. I could feel him behind me, all tense muscles and energy, and I was dizzy with a mixture of desire and fear.

"No, Pony," I said, but out loud or in my head I couldn't tell.

..........................................Steve's P.O.V.

I knew Soda was right. Damn it. I could tell Darry and should. He should know what's going on under his roof. But I couldn't tell Johnny's father. Well, I'd beat those two myself.

I pulled myself out from under the car, a Mustang, coke bottle green with white leather interior. Damn socs. Sometimes I wanted to fuck their cars up, mess with the timing belt or the head gasket, make them walk like we always had to.

And Soda with his enlightened attitude. I bet it bothered him deep down. His own brother.

"Steve, ya coming?" Soda called. I could hear him snapping the lights off and tidying up, closing time.

........................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

Leave him alone, the voice screamed in my head, the voice that said I had to be good and like girls. But the heart wants what it wants, I'd read, and now knew to be true.

The heart wants what it wants, despite the fear I could read in every one of his tensed muscles, in the way he held the edge of the sheet and bit his lip.

But I wanted him, and wanted to do what I wanted, despite Johnny's trembling and submission, or maybe because of it.

I put my hand on his back between his shoulder blades and felt him jerk away, his conditioned reaction because of all those beatings.

"Shhh, Johnny, it's o.k.," I whispered, and kept my hand there, moved it in a slow circle to show him I wouldn't hurt him.


	23. ch23

...........................................Steve's P.O.V.

"Let's go to Buck's," I said as we walked away from the dark DX station.

"Yeah, alright," Soda agreed easily enough. Trying to smooth things over with me, I knew him.

We headed that way and I hoped to find a party, a full out beer blast, and maybe a girl to hook up with or some fool to fight with.

The music hit us before we reached the door and under the music I heard the raucous laughter and swearing that meant one of Buck's parties was in full swing.

Inside the air was steamy with all the bodies crammed into such a finite space. Droplets clung to long beer bottle necks, sweat glistened on tan skin under open shirts, muscles defined under soft chambray. Shit, man. Turning queer just like some others I knew.

"Here you go, boys," Dallas came over and pressed beers into our hands. We both nodded our thanks and took a long cool swallow. As the beer hit my throat in blessed relief I heard the high pitch of a girl's sudden laughter. I looked up and saw her, a willowy red head with small eyes and full lips.

Dallas had followed my gaze and snorted laughter.

"You like that? Her name's Diane. She'll give you a ride,"

Soda sipped his beer and hung back. He'd never dream of cheating on Sandy. I didn't have the same loyalty to Evie, I guess. Soda made his way to the other side of the room and started talkin' to some kid, looked about our age, small like Johnny and with the same big dark eyes but lighter hair, more like a sandy blond, and I liked the strong line of his jaw as he tilted his head up to Soda...shit.

"Dal, get me a shot of something!" Dallas had headed to the kitchen and nodded absently, and I sought out Diane, luscious red head, made my way over to her.

..........................................Ponyboy's P.O.V.

It was too serious, it was too much. I couldn't do anything. I felt the tense muscles of Johnny's back, leaned over him, on him, until my head rested by his.

His eyes were lightly closed and this close I could see the slight movements of his eyes beneath his lids. His breathing was fast and shallow, he was scared.

It wasn't that I didn't love him, I did. But I was scared, too. I felt like we would break.

I laid on top of him, kind of half on him and half on the bed. I traced the bones in his back and wished he would relax.

.......................................Johnny's P.O.V.

I could fall asleep here and probably would. It was nice here, alone in this room and on this bed with him. My skin felt branded everywhere he touched.

"Hey, I'm gonna sleep here tonight," I said. I shifted and rolled onto my side, reached up and smoothed back his hair. He looked at me with that calm look he had, and I kissed him.

The lights from a car flashed by the window and by the pitch of the motor we both knew it was their ford. Pony sat up quick, kind of panicked.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath, holding the window sill and trying to see if it was Darry or Soda. He grabbed my boxers and jeans and threw them at me.

"It's Darry," he said, and I could hear the relief in his voice that it wasn't Soda and Steve. He laid down next to me, his head on my shoulder. It felt just right like that. Safe.

..................................Soda's P.O.V.

I watched Dallas bring Steve a shot of whiskey in a heavy shot glass and Steve knocked it back, put his arm around the red head he was talking to. She giggled and leaned into him and he smiled that kind of vicious smile.

A quiet looking blond girl was staring at Dallas every time he came into the room and looked sharply dissappointed when he didn't notice her.

The kid I was talking to, Kenny, he was a pretty cool kid. I hadn't seen him around in a while. Reform school or something.

Dal got me another beer and I felt them hitting me since I don't generally drink that much. I was smoking more, too.

Steve looked beyond that girl he was with and kind of stared at Kenny, lust in his eyes. Then he noticed I saw him looking that way and scowled, kissed the girl's neck, and lead her toward one of the bedrooms.

"Kenny, I'll see you later, I'm gonna take off," I said, making my way to the door. I'd be better off to leave Steve here. I was worried about what he might find if he comes to my house and what he might do about it.

It was a nice night, warm, perfect for walking. The noise of the party kind of faded into silence, and the two beers I'd had made me feel almost numb. I missed Sandy.

Darry was home. The car was ticking and cooling in the driveway.

Darry was watching the news with a grim set to his eyes and jaw, the t.v. glow making every thing that weird color.

"Hi, Dar,"

I went down to Pony's room, listened outside the door. Nothing. I opened it a crack and saw Pony and Johnny in the lamplight, asleep.


	24. ch24

………………………………Steve's P.O.V.

Her tongue was so soft in my mouth and I felt my whole body being pulled toward her. Diane. Since I liked her it cancelled out any thoughts I'd had about the kid talkin' to Soda.

What the hell was wrong with me? Why'd I get that stomach twisting feeling when I saw him talkin' to Soda? Shit, man. The same way I sometimes felt when I saw Johnny.

The girl moaned a little and I was drawn back to her. Slid her dress off her shoulder, slipped a finger under her bra strap.

We heard a crash from the next room. She jumped a little. I didn't.

"What was that?" she said, peering over my shoulder at the closed door.

"Probably a fight," I kissed her ear, then her neck, "don't worry about it,"

She was all breathless and into it, I could tell. I ran my hand along her thigh, touched the silk of her panties, when she slapped me away.

"No," she said, but still kind of breathless. Sometimes when girls say no they mean yes. It's confusing. I didn't stop.

"No," she said, her eyes clearing, pulling away from me. I guess she did mean no.

……………………………Dallas' P.O.V.

Some punk tried to tell me what to do. I'd already had a few so this guy didn't have a chance.

"What?" I said, staring him down, "what did you say to me?"

I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. Good. He shook his head, tried to get away from me through the crowd. One punch to the jaw and he went down.

"I'm outta here," I said to no one in particular.

……………………………Steve's P.O.V./

That girl pissed me off. Shit. I didn't need her anyway. I had Evie.

I walked around kind of aimless, filled with rage and nowhere to go. Then I got to thinkin' about Ponyboy and Johnny again. Those two punks were in my own gang and faggots, it made me so mad I couldn't see straight. Time to teach 'em a lesson.

I got to the Curtis house in no time. I knew they were here. It was quiet inside, just the T.V. on cause they never shut it off. Down the hall to Ponyboy's room and there they were, sleeping on the same bed.

Ponyboy, little tag along shit. But Johnny, I sucked in my breath when I saw him, curled up next to Ponyboy, his breathing deep and easy…it was this shit that fucked me up. If that girl hadn't pushed me away I could be with her right now. I should have went to find Evie.

"Hey," I said, loud enough to wake them. Ponyboy slept on, he slept like the dead. But Johnny flinched, even in his sleep he thought someone was gonna hit him. He blinked up at me.

"Steve?" he said, his voice still thick with sleep, and he pulled away from Ponyboy like they'd just accidentally fallen asleep there.

"What is this shit?" I said. You never really knew Johnny. You'd think he'd be scared but he wasn't. Just stared at me defiantly.

"Ponyboy, wake up!" I shook him and he groaned, rolled the other way.

"Okay, Darry, okay. I'm up," he mumbled, burying his head under his pillow. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him up.

"I'm not Darry. I want to know what the fuck you're doing,"

……………………………Dally's P.O.V.

I didn't feel like doing much. Figured I'd just crash at the Curtis'. What the hell?

I headed over, pushed open the front door. They always left it unlocked. T.V. on, Darry snoring in the back bedroom. About right. I was about to lay down on the couch when I heard a voice from Ponyboy's room.

"Hey, what's it to you? Fuck you,"

Johnny. Who the hell was he talkin' to like that?

I went down to check it out and saw Steve about to punch Ponyboy, he had a handful of his shirt in one hand and his other hand was raised in a fist.


	25. ch25

…………………………….Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I stared at Steve's fist as it was about to crash into my face. It wasn't like we didn't fight. Steve and Soda fought a lot, and Two bit's swung at me a few times. Dally's punched every one of us 'cept for Johnny.

But to be woken out of a sound sleep to see Steve Randle glaring at me, my shirt all bunched up in one fist, the other cocked back, Johnny swearing at him in his voice he usually reserved for socs, it was just...disorienting.

I tried to shake free but Steve was pretty strong.

"Steve," Dally's calm voice from the doorway. Steve glanced over at him then turned back to me and punched me. I saw stars. Shit that hurt. Blood poured from my nose and I could smell it, that sharp kind of copper/iron smell.

I fell to the bed, trying to stop the flow of blood with my hands, not having much luck. Now I had a fucking headache.

"Steve, let's go," Dally said, grabbing Steve's arm and dragging him from the room.

"You okay?" Johnny said softly, trying to pull my hands away from my nose.

"He broke it, the fuckhead," I said, my voice kind of muffled with blood.

"I'll go get ice," Johnny jumped up and I thought he should be a nurse or doctor or somethin'. He knew what to do for every injury.

He came back with a bag of ice and a towel. He cleaned up the blood, placed the ice pack gently on my nose, "so it won't swell," he said. He took my hand and put it on the ice pack so I'd hold it. Then he wrapped his arms around me and rocked, and despite the pain, I felt better.

…………………………….Steve's P.O.V.

I glared at Dally. We were sitting at the table and I wanted to leave. But you don't just up and leave on Dallas Winston. So I lit a cigarette instead.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he said, the steel edge in his voice. If I could get out of this without getting my head busted open I'd consider myself lucky.

"Nothin'" I mumbled, looking down.

"Nothin'? You call walking in here and punching Ponyboy nothin'?"

I didn't say nothin'. Fucking Dallas.

"Steve!"

"Alright," I looked at him, "I was mad and I, I guess I just took it out on Ponyboy,"

"What the hell's Ponyboy got to do with Diane?"

Diane? The puzzled look on my face was the same as Dally's. Diane? Oh, the girl from the party. He thought she was why I was mad. I looked at him, his narrowed light blue eyes, clenched fists perhaps seconds away from pounding on me. He had no idea what Ponyboy and Johnny were doing.

………………………….Johnny's P.O.V.

I heard Dal talkin' to Steve out there. That was okay. I didn't care if he told Dal about us, either. I don't know why. I just didn't give a shit.

I heard them leave and that was okay, too. I looked at Ponyboy. If his nose was broken he'd have two black eyes tomorrow. I knew. My nose had been broken enough. Fucking old man. I haven't been home for days and neither of them gave a shit.

Pony was fallin' asleep. It was easy to fall asleep after getting hurt. Something to do with adrenaline and endorphins, I don't know. Saw that on T.V. once and remembered it cause I slept so well after the old man beat me. Slept like I was on drugs or something.

His breathing was rough because of his nose. More blood kept trickling out. Poor Pony. I kissed his cheek. He didn't wake up.


	26. ch26

……………………………Ponyboy's P.O.V.

When I woke up I didn't remember what happened. I just knew that my nose fucking hurt. And I knew it was a school day but it felt later than it should. And I knew Johnny was next to me without even opening my eyes.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah?" His thick sleepy voice. It didn't surprise me he wasn't at school. But why wasn't I?

"Why does my nose hurt?" I opened my eyes. It was late morning.

"Steve punched you. Remember?"

And I did remember. Steve coming in here to pound the shit out of both of us but he only got around to my nose before Dally stopped him.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Why ain't we in school?"

"Well, I hate school. But Darry said you didn't have to go cause your nose is busted,"

"Okay, then. I'm going back to sleep,"

I could tell by the silence that no one was here except me and Johnny. It was nice sometimes to be in bed when you're supposed to be in school.

The sun streamed in through the window. My nose hurt, and it was like a band of pain under my eyes and I wanted to grab some aspirin but it seemed like too much work. I snuggled up to Johnny. He felt so warm. I felt his hand on the back of my neck.

…………………………..Johnny's P.O.V.

I woke up early, man. It was still dark out. Ponyboy was still sleeping pretty good. His arm was slung over me.

I got up and went into the kitchen. It was starting to get light out. I was smoking when Darry came into the kitchen.

"Hey, Johnny," he said, not surprised I was there cause I was there all the time.

I nodded at him and took a good drag of the weed. I kinda felt guilty like I didn't want Darry to know that I was sleeping in Pony's room. Shame, y'know? I sighed.

"What's up?" Darry asked, looking at me funny. I ducked my head.

"Nothin'," He shrugged, went back to making coffee and breakfast.

"Hey, Johnnycakes," Soda said, rubbing sleep outa his eyes, smiling.

"Hey, man," I said softly and lit another cigarette. It was light out and pretty soon one of them would wake Pony up for school.

"You want breakfast?" Darry said, settin' the plates out. I shook my head no. I watched him go down the hall to Pony's room.

"Johnny!" I sighed again and got up. Darry stood outside Pony's room.

"Yeah?"

"What the hell happened?"

I was right about the black eyes. His nose was broken, alright. Dried blood underneath it and all. And I felt guilty looking at him, like I done it. But I guess in a way I did.

"Uh, Steve punched him,"

"Why?"

My eyes got wide. I hated lots of questions.

"Drunk, I s'pose," I looked at my sneakers, wouldn't look at Darry. I could still feel him lookin' at me. He's mad, but at Steve, Ponyboy, or me, I can't tell.

"Well, I ain't gonna wake him. Johnny, me and Soda gotta get to work. You think you could maybe stay here with him?" Darry asked this like it was putting me out, like a real kind of favor.

"Yeah, course I will, yeah," I said. And after they left I went back to Pony's room, and he was still sleeping. I crawled into bed with him.


	27. ch27

……………………………Ponyboy's P.O.V.

When I woke up Johnny was up, lying on the bed next to me and listening to the radio.

"Hey," I said softly. He echoed it back. It kinda looked like it was gonna rain outside.

He had his jeans on but no shirt. I tried to remember if he'd had the jeans on all night but couldn't.

I liked how he looked without the shirt, kinda sexy, kinda fuckable.

"Still hurt?" he said, squinting at my nose. He knew it did. I nodded.

"Be right back," he said, jumping up. As he left the room I noticed how the waist of his jeans looked against his lower back, saw the white flash of his instep as he walked away.

The sky was a bright gray, like a thin layer of clouds covered the sun. The window was open. It felt like rain.

"Here," Johnny said, dropping three aspirins into my hand, handing me a glass of water.

"Thanks," I said, swallowing the aspirins. I felt taken cared of, like a child.

"Poor Ponyboy," Johnny said, touching my hair. I smiled up at him and he leaned down, kissed me. Soft at first, then insistent.

………………………….Johnny's P.O.V.

I kissed him, trying to be careful of his nose, of course. Stupid Steve, what the fuck, you know? But I guess if he hadn't done it Pony'd be at school and I might be too, and that would suck.

I straddled him and kept kissing him, and he put his hands on my shoulders, kind of trailed his fingertips along, it made me feel shivery.

"Johnny," he kind of gasped, broke away from kissing me, "can't breathe," he said. He looked tough with the black eyes, so dark against his pale skin. It made me realize how he wasn't hurt much, but that I was.

He pushed me off and I laid on my back, watched him crawl on top of me, like he liked. He liked to be in control. I started breathing faster as he pinned my hands down, ran his tongue along my chest. I guess I liked it, too.

"Johnny, God," he said in that dazed way, his eyes not really focusing. He kissed my stomach and tugged on the waist of my jeans. I arched my back and he undid the button with a quick flick of his fingers against it. I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes.

………………………………Ponyboy's P.O.V.

It was worth a broken nose for Johnny. When he sucked in his breath like that and closed his eyes like he was scared, I almost lost my mind.

Ugh, I wanted to fuck him. Every smooth sweet inch of him. I tugged his jeans down, ran my palms over the jut of his hip bones, watched him squirm.

"Johnny," I half whispered, half said. Just breathed. He opened his eyes, they kind of fluttered open. His mouth was open, the top teeth almost touching his bottom lip.

"Yeah," His voice deep, just above a whisper. It reminded me he was older, which was funny, cause I felt older.

He kept his hands where I'd pinned them down, not interfering as I ran a finger gently along his throat to the hollow below the adam's apple, and when he swallowed I could feel it move. I touched his chest and felt his heart hammering away, felt the delicate cage of his ribs. His smooth stomach, tensed against my touch. Lower and lower, his boxer shorts down in one swift movement, and I grabbed hold of him and leaned over him to kiss him again. He moaned and whimpered and couldn't catch his breath between kisses and it drove me crazy.

"Hey, Johnny," I said, my voice cracking a little. He couldn't answer but looked at me, choked out, "yeah?".

"I want to fuck you, okay?"

He closed his eyes, "okay," his voice breathless and I kissed him before the word was all the way out.

And it rained, big fat drops, all pent up. They were striking the house, the ground, the cars, all at once.


	28. rewrite

**A/N**: Okay guys here we go again…

……………………Pony's P.O.V.

I kissed him, felt his tongue, the smoothness of his teeth. Johnny. I'd peek at him while I kissed him, I liked how his eyelashes were long enough to touch his cheeks, liked the little movements his eyes made beneath his closed lids.

I stopped kissing him and his eyes fluttered open. He looked at me like he was drunk. I kissed his throat, feeling the adam's apple with my tongue, kissing the delicate hollow at the base of his neck, kissing his collarbones that were clear beneath his skin because he was so thin…

I wanted him so badly, wanted to bite at the smooth tan skin but wouldn't because I needed to be gentle with him, needed somehow to make him feel less afraid of being touched, of me touching him.

"Johnny," I said it all breathless. I liked saying his name, liked the way he responded when I said it softly next to his ear.

"Johnny," and he moaned so softly, such a sexy little sound that I felt instantly hard, harder. I bit his earlobe gently, then harder.

He was perfect, I thought, couldn't help thinking as I leaned over him, positioned us somehow so I could slip inside him, and when I did he kind of squeezed his eyes shut and his breathing was so shallow and so fast.

I closed my eyes, too, and made gentle thrusts into him and the friction of it, the dangerous forbiddenness, it made my breathing faster and my heart pounded in my chest and I dropped my head onto my chest and listened to Johnny make soft sex sounds every time I thrust into him.

At one point I opened my eyes and saw that his eyes were open, too. He was looking at me with such a naked, vulnerable look. I reached out and stroked his face, softly, and his eyes slowly closed again.

"Johnny, I love you," I wasn't sure if I said that out loud, or just in my head.

…………………………Johnny's P.O.V.

Shit, I didn't know why I was so scared. It was just Pony, after all. Not like it was some stranger but still. I wanted him to do it, he kept saying he wanted to and all, but at the same time I felt sorta scared.

So I figured I'd just let him. He was kissing me with that intent, that insistence that I knew he'd made up his mind. And he'd say my name in my ear and I could feel his breath, could feel his desire in a way, almost.

He looked worse today, both his eyes black cause of the broken nose. But I had to admit it was kind of cool, kind of tough in a way. He kissed me and I kissed him back, all the time waiting for him to do it, if he was gonna. Suspense, you know.

And he did, kind of just slipped it in and it hurt, I didn't really expect it to hurt so much. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to yell but damn, that fucking hurt. But he did look so cute the way he had his eyes shut and he was concentrating and all, and he wasn't trying to hurt me.

I bit my lip so I wouldn't cry out, make him think he had to stop, cause it was okay. It hurt but it felt good at the same time. And I opened my eyes to look at him and then he opened his eyes, too. I felt almost scared, not cause of being hurt or nothin' but because I'd never been this close to anyone, and it was scary.

Then he shut his eyes again and started breathing faster and fucking faster and he was gonna come, I could tell, and for some reason that thought was exciting. He went in harder and hit something that felt so damn good, shit, and if he kept hitting it like that I'd come all over him.

He kept doing it like that and I kind of watched him, it was like he forgot about me a bit, but that was okay. It felt real good and I started sliding toward that orgasm, that slide that there's no stopping it. I went first. Then he did.

……………………….Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I felt sleepy, but good. It still rained, and I liked the sound of the rain against the glass and the way it felt to just lie here with Johnny, I liked that, too.

He looked sleepy and he was so warm, and I smiled and let my eyes shut, let my fingers touch his hair. He snuggled against me and I looked out the window, sighed, and closed my eyes again. Maybe I'd fall asleep. Or maybe I'd just lie here and listen to Johnny breathe.


	29. Chapter 29

Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I bit my lip and smiled at him while I got dressed. He got dressed, too. It couldn't last forever, lying next to each other on the bed and the rain outside, making the bedroom seem even warmer and safer.

His back was to me and I watched the way his muscles moved as he buttoned his jeans and reached for his shirt. Pulled the shirt over his head, shook his head in that familiar way to get his hair out of his eyes.

"Shit, Johnny," I said when he turned around. He looked at me, so solemn, big black eyes filled with all our secrets.

I pushed him onto the bed but lightly, a playful shove. He fell onto the bed and looked up at me.

"Shit, Johnny," I said again, and leaned in to kiss him. He let his head fall back and kissed me, too. He'd yield now. It was like he was mine.

Johnny's P.O.V.

I left Pony's house cause I had to sooner or later. Just wandered around, nothing to do and nowhere to go. Kicked at the cans, kicked at the rocks. I wouldn't go home.

It wasn't raining so hard anymore so I leaned up against a wall and lit a cigarette. Closed my eyes and thought of what me and Pony done. Life was sometimes shocking like that. Shit, man.

In the distance I saw someone coming. Even from this far away I knew it was Dal. I could tell by his hair. In the rain it looked like metal.

"Hey, Johnny, got a cancer stick?" he said, and I got him one. I smoked the most of any of us, even Pony. And I'd started smoking earlier than the others, even Dal. He started smoking at 12. I started at nine. And it's cause cigarettes are lousy for you. I'm self destructive.

"Haven't seen you around in a while," Dal said, and lit his cigarette. I shrugged.

"I've been around,"

"Oh, yeah?" And now he looked at me sharply, and I looked away. He had that look like he wanted to talk about something, or lecture me about something, and I knew what it was.

"What have you been doin' lately?" he said. I sighed, lit up another cigarette. I really didn't want to have this talk.

"Is it about Ponyboy?" I said, exhaling the smoke in a stream. I wished Dally'd cut the bullshit and say what he wanted to say.

"Of course it's about Ponyboy. What the fuck, Johnny, huh? You two can't, you can't…"

Out of words, even for Dallas Winston.

Ponyboy's P.O.V.

I heard the door slam but didn't think anything of it. People were in and out all the time.

I heard the footsteps come down the hall and hoped it was Johnny but knew it wasn't.

And the door slammed open and Steve stood there, a calm and terrible anger on his face.

"Ain't no one here to protect you now," he said. I froze. I could outrun him, even with this broken nose and feeling a little run down. No one could catch me. He blocked the door so I glanced at the window.

"Darry'll kill you," I said quietly. He wouldn't dare touch Johnny. Steve had always liked Johnny better than me anyhow.

"Not when he finds out you two are queer for each other,"

"Fuck you, Steve!" I took off for the window at a dead run but before I reached it I felt his hand on the back of my shirt.


	30. Chapter 30

He yanked me back, hard, and I felt the collar of my shirt kind of choking me. I fell back into my room and before I knew it he was punching me and kicking me. I rolled out of the way of his last kick and got up fast despite the sharp pain in my ribs from his kicks.

"Jesus, Steve,"

I was in it now, so mad I couldn't see straight. I focused on him, just him, Steve Randall who had always treated me like an annoying tag along kid. I hated him, I knew I did. He could never understand about Johnny. Never.

I ducked a left hook and came up swinging. I was a pretty good fighter despite my size. I clipped his jaw with my fist and he rocked back, then shoved me and I stumbled back but didn't lose my balance.

That was it. All this secrecy, all this hassle over Johnny this whole while, all this frustration had a target now. I shoved Steve harder than I'd ever shoved anyone and he fell to the floor and I waded in, punch after punch after punch. If he was punching me I didn't even feel it.

"I'm gonna kill you, Steve," I gasped.

"Ponyboy!"

I was being dragged off of him, still swinging.

"Darry, let me go!"

My eyes were half shut but I saw Steve get up slowly, wipe off blood from his lips and nose, walk away.

"What in the hell is going on?" Darry said, looking mad and confused at the same time.

"Nothing," I couldn't explain it. I couldn't explain anything to anyone.

"I'll be back later," I said, shoving by him. I had to get out of that house, get away. I could feel Darry staring at me as I left, but I didn't care. And I didn't care where Steve had gone, either.

It felt good to be out in the sun, at least. I walked fast but it didn't help. I saw Johnny at the edge of the vacant lot, smoking a cigarette.

"Johnny, hey," I said, and took the cigarette he offered me. Took a long drag off of it, exhaled, felt some delayed shakiness from the fight. He still looked so goddamn good to me, with his jet black hair falling down in front of his eyes.

Johnny looked at me with that sad appraising sort of way he had, and God knew what I looked like.

"Steve?" he questioned, flicking away the butt.

"Yeah," I shuddered, closed my eyes, didn't feel like opening them again. At least when I was like this Johnny wouldn't badger me and pester me to tell him what was wrong.

I opened them, looked at Johnny not looking at me, his dark eyes just gazing off in the distance, that scar on his cheek very visible in the sun.

"Johnny, look," I swallowed, all the words and thoughts in my head kind of jumbled together, "look, this, this whole thing, it's too hard, it's just too…I don't think I can do this anymore, I really don't…"

Stated badly, I knew. I tapped the ground with the toe of my sneaker, and Johnny still wouldn't look at me, just shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah," he said softly, and somehow I didn't want him to agree so easily. But he just didn't fight anymore.

I wanted to kiss him, to touch him, but he was closed off. I was afraid to even talk to him at this point. I shoved my hands in my pockets and squinted at the sun.

"Well, see ya," I said, and started to take off.

"Okay," he said, so soft I could barely hear him.


	31. Chapter 31

I was fine with my decision, I was fine with it. That night in my room all alone, the faint light from the streetlights coming through the windows…It wasn't forever. It was stupid. It was nothing. Just fooling around. I mean, c'mon, Johnny? Jesus, was I fucked.

Soda was out somewhere, I didn't even know where. I didn't even care. I didn't care about anything. Steve had landed some punches, hard ones, and I felt the ache, the dull throbbing. It made me feel kind of sleepy. That's what Johnny must feel all the time. I squeezed my eyes shut, tried not to think about him anymore.

Listened to the cars whizzing by, sometimes I could hear a radio cranked. All the sounds of this stupid city. Cars and people walking and laughing loud like hyenas.

Why couldn't I be in love with a fucking girl? How much simpler would all this shit be if I just liked a girl? Even a rich girl, a soc, someone from the other side of the tracks. Someone everyone hated, that'd still be easier than this. This.

I wondered where he was, what he was doing. I could imagine a million things. Taking a sip of a beer Two-bit had snuck under his jacket. Hanging out at the lot, his face lit by the fire, flickery orange glow. Taking a drag off a cigarette.

Oh well. It was done. What was done was done. Time to move on. Time to forget all this shit that was just holding me down, holding me back. Tossing and turning, sleep not coming. Rolling around in my own misery. Miserable.

I remembered kissing him, how alive I felt then. How no one mattered then. Just me and him, the rough feel of his denim jacket under my fingers, the slick feel of his hair, the way he ducked his head. All these things about him burned on my memory. The tone of his voice, the shade of his eyes, the way I felt when he said my name that certain way.

I heard the door open, heard the slam of the screen door. Footsteps. Soda must be home from wherever it was he went. I'd just pretend to be asleep cause I wasn't in the mood to talk.

It didn't matter, didn't matter. I buried my head in the pillow. Trying to convince myself of this. Lying to myself all the time. It was just a lark, it was just for fun. It didn't mean anything.

I could hear footsteps coming down the hall, heard the creak of my bedroom door as someone pushed it open.

"Ponyboy,"

Unmistakably Johnny. My heart sped up to a thousand beats a minute. I turned over and looked at him standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He looked so perfect standing there.

"Hey, Johnny,"

He stood there in the doorway, on the edge. I didn't invite him in and I didn't send him away. I was on the edge, too. I wanted this to be done. I couldn't do this anymore. But I looked at him, his full red lips, his front teeth angled in, his big eyes, black hair.

I kicked the covers off. I was only in a pair of old jeans. Stood up, walked toward him.

"Hey," I said again, softly. I was taller than he was, even without shoes. He just looked at me with his tragic eyes. All that pain and I added to it. I hung my head in shame.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my throat closing and choking on it, "sorry…"

He nodded and I came up closer to him, put my arms around his neck.

"I love you," I whispered, and I saw a dozen Johnnys through my tears. Closed my eyes, kissed him, felt his tongue against mine as he kissed back.


	32. Chapter 32

Sometimes it was nice not to care so much. And I didn't. I felt all cared out. I lead Johnny to my bed and lifted his shirt off of him, that soft faded T-shirt that had probably been washed a thousand times. No, I didn't care what anyone thought or what anyone would say. It was exhausting to care.

He was scratched and bruised, like he always was. I guessed as long as he lived with his folks his old man wouldn't stop beating him, and there was nothing any of us could do about it. He stayed away as much as he could, I supposed. I just gazed at the fresh bruises laid over the old ones. I gazed at the scar on his cheek, and in this light I could hardly see it, but I knew it was there. I'd traced it with the tip of my finger so many times.

He laid down on my bed, on top of the covers, kicked his sneakers off. I laid down next to him, felt his warmth. Johnny. He still made me crazy. I squinted at him, at his long dark hair and big eyes, and wondered exactly what it was he felt for me. But at that moment I didn't really care about that, either. I was feeling like I couldn't control anyone, least of all him. He'd think and feel whatever he wanted to.

"Johnny," I said softly, near his ear. He didn't say anything. That was okay. I liked his quietness. I liked dragging words out of him. I kissed his temple, felt him shiver, kissed his cheek near the scar, kissed his lips. I didn't have to force him to open his mouth now, he opened it slowly, letting me in.

I trailed my fingers down his chest and stomach, and felt him tense up. All the touches are the same to him, maybe. Every touch could hurt. This had hurt both of us. At the start of this he probably knew that, knew it more than I did. Being so damaged made you wise.

I closed my eyes and kept kissing him, feeling like I could devour him. I was only happy when I was with him alone, when I could try and kiss him and touch him all I wanted, until he stopped me.

I tugged on the button of his jeans until it came undone and he shifted his weight. I glanced at the door to my room. It was shut. Soda could burst in at any time. Any of them could. I didn't care, honestly. Whatever.

Whatever. And I didn't care about easy anymore, either. It would be easier to be in love with a girl. So what? I ran my hand through his slick hair, flicked my tongue against his. I ran one finger along the waistband of his jeans. If he was going to pull away it would be now, and I tried to detect signs of it. He shifted his weight from time to time but he kept kissing me and didn't move away, or pull into himself and shut me out. Johnny was good at shutting people out.

I knew he shut people out, and I knew he had to. All those years I had watched him, way before that beating by the socs, I'd watched him get that glazed look in his eyes and hunch his shoulders up and everything about him screamed, 'leave me alone'. I'd seen him hardly say two words to anybody for days, I'd seen all the bruises and black eyes from his old man. I'd seen him flinch away from us even though he knew none of us would ever hurt him.

I touched his shoulders and his collar bones and I knew I had hurt him. This overwhelming feeling that I had for him had hurt him. Hurt couldn't be helped, I supposed, kissing his shoulder. He was so skinny, almost frail. He never ate enough.

It couldn't be helped. I pushed his jeans down and kissed him and he rolled away from me, pulled the jeans back up and buttoned them again. I was rebuked. I stared at him with wide eyes. I knew this couldn't ever work.

But I would never know what he was thinking. He rolled back toward me and closed his eyes as he leaned in for another kiss. Maybe he wanted things to be slow. I'd be okay with that. I kissed him deep and put my hand on the back of his neck. I'd let him choose the pace. He was really the one who was in charge, because I thought my desire was greater than his, so that gave him the power over me.


End file.
